Marvellous World
by RECKLESS SOLDIER-MS
Summary: A new world of Marvels awaits. Ten years after surviving a great disaster, a drifter explores the new world, witnessing the rise of heroes and villains. But in between his own super heroics, he investigates his father and the mysterious World Disaster Response Agency. Will he discover the truth? Or will the forces behind the darkness, bring about the next great cataclysm?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

The only thing I own is my OC Sven Reilly

Once again I am reimagining the Marvel Universe, this time writing a multiple story arc fic, building up a mysterious plot in between the action, much like my Justice League Planet of the Bravest fic.

This Marvel Universe draws inspiration from the comics, but certain bits from certain films, cartoons, other universes, but mostly from my own imagination. There are certain things about character origins that are different, but I hope I am still capturing the essence of who these characters are.

For example biggest change: Magneto, as well as being identified by that name, he also goes by his original name Max Eisenhart (people common believe Erik Lensherr is his real name). Max is not a holocaust survivor, but his parents were. At his heart though he remains very much the same character, a man who uses extreme methods for a cause he believes in.

That is but one of the changes, the rest you can find out by reading, hope you all enjoy the fic.

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Marvellous World

Prologue: Watcher's eyes

The transparent man awoke, looking at his surroundings in confusion. He knew a name, his name, but he knew not where he was. The darkened hall was not his house, and the voice he heard speaking his name, was not his father's voice.

"Aaron Stack!"

The transparent man looked up, and then around, trying to find the source of that voice. It was a gentle voice, one that was in its very tone asking for help. All his life, Aaron Stack had been taught by his father to help others. His father was a doctor, and Aaron thought that if his father was hear, he could help the giant, or at least who Aaron assumed was a giant.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I could not tell you where I am, I can no longer see where I am. But I can tell you who I am, and why I have brought you here Machine Man."

"Do not call me that," Aaron said, his voice taking on a defensive tone.

"Forgive me, I have seen much, it is difficult sometimes to know when people accept their names."

"That isn't my name though."

"Not in this world, but I know of many worlds Aaron, for I have seen much in my long life," the great voice said.

"Are you blind?" Aaron asked.

"I am, sadly I can no longer fulfil my universal role without your help."

"Who are you?"

"Follow my voice, step closer and you will see Aaron," the voice spoke, and then whistled.

The transparent man followed, the light passing through his body, revealing only to himself the circuitry and turning gears within his body. He looked up and gasped, seeing the wondrous view of space, and of the planet Earth. For a moment he stood looking at it, the whistling of the giant forgotten.

"It is magnificent isn't it?" the voice asked him. "Of all the things, I miss seeing that planet the most."

"Are we on the moon?" Aaron asked.

"A correct assumption, well done Aaron, we are on the moon, specifically what would be referred to as the blue area of the moon. It has not been charted by humanity, not yet, and is a place where though life cannot grow, it can endure," the voice explained.

"You mean a place of breathable air?"

"Indeed, now come closer Aaron, see me!"

Aaron walked closer into darkness, only his eyes could see what was sat within the chamber. Again he gasped, long had he thought he was one of the strangest things in the universe. Now he saw differently.

"I am Uatu, the Watcher!"

Long people believed that god had some human form. But Aaron knew he was not looking upon a god. Though Uatu was gigantic, he was not human, yet there was something unmistakably human in his weakness. His skin, if one could call it that was pure white, the arms resting on his chair were long, as big as his legs. There were two, massive fingers on each hand, and three toes, two at the front of his foot and three at the back. There wasn't a single shred of hair across his body, a naked body that had ridges and carapaces, but none of the organs a human would have. But Aaron could see clearly that Uatu was malnourished, his head had an almost egg like shape to it, and his eyes, he had no eyes.

"My god," Aaron gasped.

"A people on Earth once thought me a god, but I am not god, I am a watcher," Uatu said.

His hands adjusted the blue cloth he had draped over his body. A staff rested against his chair, he took it and tapped it against the floor. The ridges on the side of his head must have been ears, but another thing Aaron noticed was that when Uatu spoke, his mandibles didn't seem to move.

"Are you speaking, to my mind?" Aaron asked.

"The language of my people is one no human could ever understand, likewise our vocal chords are shaped in such a way, that we cannot speak any language on Earth," again Uatu tapped the floor, making his way to a tablet of some kind.

Running his hands across the tablet, reading it like brail, he pushed what must have been buttons, as the symbols across the tablet glowed. To Aaron, they looked much like hieroglyphics of Egypt. Looking at Uatu's face itself, his nose had a somewhat beak quality to it. Lights swept over the chamber, and suddenly, a portion of the wall slid apart. Like the windows of an observatory, they revealed an even more spectacular view of the moon, and the ruins of a city.

"This is..."

"The home of a once great kingdom, reduced now to mere ruins, watching them made me feel sad, perhaps that is why I put the observatory here, to remind myself," Uatu explained.

"Remind yourself of what?" Aaron asked.

"Of many things, the consequences of hubris, of greed, sometimes even of the best intentions. My people were once a far spreading empire. We watched countless universes, sending our great machines to them, to watch, to record, yet never to interfere. Societies had to develop on their own terms, in their own time. We could never do what they did."

"Who are they?"

"First come here," Uatu tapped his staff against the floor, beckoning Aaron to come forward. "Touch this tablet Aaron Stack, expand your sight."

Hesitantly, Aaron moved forward, the computer part of his mind analysing what Uatu told him. Numerous possibilities ran through his cortex, of Uatu tricking him, of the alien tech being incompatible with his, of the machinery corrupting him, or him corrupting it. Yet, the very human emotion of curiosity took over, he needed to know more. Touching the tablet with his transparent hands, his blue 'shell' began to glow green as the tablet activated.

Within an instant, Uatu was gone, the moon was gone, and Aaron was someplace else. He was on Earth, but the air was very different, the ground was very different. Creatures walked on its surface, beasts that today were mere displays in museums, beasts with appearances experts were only able to guess, but Aaron saw them, he saw what they really looked like. He saw them walk peacefully, he saw them hunt, and struggle, he saw them alive and in the flesh. But then, he saw something that he did not expect at all, something that had no place in the time period he was in.

Aaron looked up at giants even greater in size than Uatu, they towered over mountains, yet left no destruction in their wake. But Aaron could feel an immense power coming from the giants, power contained within the incredible suits of armour they wore. He watched as one giant gathered the precursors of humanity, watched as they subjected them to experiments. The chambers those Neanderthals were put in glowed with the same energy inside the giant. Then two chambers opened, and out came two naked humans, a man and a woman. Their bodies were flawless, the very images of perfection.

The blonde haired man suddenly created a suit of some kind. It had an almost armoured quality to it, much like the giants who had helped him to evolve. Red boots and gauntlets covered his limbs, blue fabric wrapped across his body, and red lines ran down his chest, joining the gold studded belt across his hips. The woman's black hair was suddenly tied together by two green bands, fabric formed green gloves and boots, and a darker green sleeveless suit, with part of the chest opened.

But then, Aaron saw another Celestial, take other humans. Unlike the pleasant and uplifting experience their far off brethren went through, these humans experienced agony. Aaron hugged his arms in sympathy, hearing the animalistic screams of the first humans. Then, they emerged from their chambers, and though they still looked somewhat human, they could only be described as monstrous. Some who emerged looked like evolved humans, but there was something in their eyes, something in all of their eyes, that didn't seem very human.

"What have I just seen Uatu?" Aaron asked, as he was brought back to the moon.

He saw those same giants, leaving the Earth, flying through space, slowly as if there was no advance propulsion behind them.

"You have seen one of the Celestial hosts, they are scientists I suppose is the best term to use," Uatu said.

"What were they doing?"

"They were exploring the evolution of humanity, through genetic manipulation, they created two distinct races, the Eternals, those whom embody perfection, and the deviants, those they believe represent the worst evolutionary path of humanity. But make no mistake Aaron Stack, the Eternals are not perfect," Uatu explained.

"No one is, perfection is only within the eye of the beholder," Aaron said.

"True, I knew you were clever."

"I am an android, from a certain point of view, I'm already smarter than most humans."

A guttural sound came out of Uatu's mouth, Aaron assumed it was a laugh. Aaron could still hear Uatu, still feel the presence of the giant beside him. He was not going back through time, he realised, simply watching a recording. The Earth rotated as time passed, islands on Earth split apart, new continents formed and stars went out, and even lit up again in the wider galaxy behind it. Aaron then found himself on Earth again, seeing tribes of humans running away from great constructs coming from the sky.

"They aren't Celestials," Aaron said.

"Indeed they are not, those ships you see are from the Kree collective," Uatu said.

The ships later made way for small facilities, lab complexes. Like the Celestials, great machines captured human tribes and dragged them back to their Kree masters. The Kree, Aaron saw blue skinned men and women.

"Why do they look human?" he asked.

"In a way, I suppose they are human, Homo-kreein would perhaps be a term. On their planet, a planet harsher than Earth, they evolved within an environment where radiation existed. Their evolutionary path made them a species entirely different from humanity, despite the subtle resemblance," Uatu explained.

"Are you saying that every dominant species on every alien planet, is human?"

"They are not human Aaron, they are Kree, but once they were simply...alive."

"What are they doing now?" Aaron asked.

Though he could see they were experimenting on the primitives, exposing them to energy fields, injecting them with syringes. Then, like human scientists with primates, they put breathing masks on their faces. The Kree scientists hit crystals contained in a chamber, with lasers. As the crystals dissolved, a gas ran through the hose, into the breathing masks and through the noses of the humans. Within moments, the humans were suddenly encased within green, breathing cocoons.

"Terragenesis it is called, what you are seeing is a very different type of hubris Aaron Stack," Uatu said as after a few hours, the cocoons began to hatch.

From the cocoons came a great many humanoid creatures. Some of these humans seemed physically perfect like the Eternals, others were monstrous, or even somewhere in between. But all of them had great power, power they unleashed upon the Kree. Eventually, the scientists fled on ships, and the enhanced humans found the crystals that had changed them.

"The Kree was a collective, following no religion but law and logic. Like any society, when it came across another, with differing views, their first contact led to only one thing..."

"War," Aaron said.

"Yes, sadly, the Kree went to war with a race they came to call the Skrulls. The Skrulls were a peaceful empire that expanded through the spread of their religion. When the war began, the Skrulls quickly adapted into warriors. The Kree sought any advantage they could. Whilst the Celestials sought to be the gods, the Kree interfered only to create living weapons, unaware of humanity's potential for defiance," Uatu explained.

"These other humans, and the Eternals and Deviants, what became of them?" Aaron asked.

"The Eternals and Deviants would become the inspiration for various legends. The Kree's creations, the Inhumans would become a society, a nation hidden from humanity, growing and even splitting as human tribes did. But now you must move further through time, into the future, past the times of kings, through a first worldwide war, to just before the eve of the second, into the first age of Marvels."

"I have heard of this, my father spoke very highly of it," these was excitement in the transparent man's voice, and again Uatu laughed, that same guttural sound from before.

The Earth rotated again, and Aaron stood on islands as they broke apart, as grass grew and died, then grew again, as castles were built, then destroyed. Then came wars, ones humanity hadn't even remembered, then came cities. Until finally, it was the 1930s and Aaron stood within a warehouse. There, a brown haired man with a moustache was working in a lab. He looked over various blue prints, mixed various chemicals together. His face, though not as aged as Aaron remembered, was one he knew.

"Phineas Horton, the bio-engineer," he said.

"Yes, the creator of one of the first Marvels," Uatu said.

Aaron looked in awe at the metallic frame Phineas worked on. He worked on the inner wiring of the machine, adjusted the joints, fixing them into place. Then, as a few days passed, he laid the humanoid machine on a table, and began coating him with a chemical substance. The substance began to slowly harden, forming very convincing human skin. Much later, Phineas added small things like eyes, a mouth and blonde hair.

"Phineas Horton was two things, a man looking to be famous, and a man who wanted to make a difference. With crime rates so high, he wanted to use his company, Timely Productions, to create what would have essentially have been the world's first drone work force. He wanted to create police officers, but he created something truly incredible," Uatu explained.

"I know," Aaron said.

More time passed, and Horton presented his creation to politicians, the chief of police and numerous reporters. The android was contained within a small glass chamber, and people marvelled at how it couldn't be distinguished from a human. It wore a simple red suit, with only boots and no gloves. But when Horton lifted up the glass case, the android suddenly burst into flames. Except it wasn't on fire, its body had become fire. The android's hair and eyes were no longer visible, nor was its suit or artificial skin, it was a human shaped flame.

More time passed, and chaos erupted in the streets. The fiery android was not the most feared thing in New York. It was at the harbour, where police cars were thrown into one another. People ran from a dark haired man. His tanned skin had subtle scales on some areas, gills on his neck and scaled shorts covered his groin. The man's muscles were huge, but he had a look of arrogance across his face. That arrogance quickly turned into aggression as the android began to fight him. Aaron stepped behind a photographer, framing with his fingers, the very moment an iconic image was captured.

"The Human Torch, and the Submariner, the first Marvels, though some often mistake their predecessor for it," Aaron said.

"Very good Aaron, you already have knowledge of them."

"Not everyone on Earth has forgotten them, they simply believe they weren't necessary to winning the war," Aaron explained.

"That would have been true, if not for the fact the Axis powers had their own Marvels, a science division born from a cult called Hydra," Uatu said.

Aaron was suddenly in Germany, at the home of a man who was shorter, and seemed more mild mannered than Horton.

"Professor Abraham Erskine," he identified that man too.

A man in a German military uniform was yelling at Erskine, showing him his notes and even hitting him.

"Johann Schmitt, the sixteenth head of Hydra and a scientist himself," Uatu said.

"A Nazi," Aaron added.

"An incorrect assumption from history, Schmitt wasn't a Nazi, oh he believed in a superior race, but scoffed at the idea that it was based purely on genetics. He believed potential had to be forced out, once his beliefs may have seemed innocent, and the man himself good. But years in the military, years of having power and privilege, blinded him," Uatu explained as Schmitt waved about the photo of the Human Torch and Namor.

"He was of the belief that even without their two Marvels, if America entered the war, Germany would lose. Unwilling to let that happen, he turned to Erskine's research into human potential."

Schmitt suddenly grabbed the vial that was on Erskine's lab, and rolled up his sleeve.

"Erskine knew that his formula was incomplete, but above all, he believed that Schmitt himself wasn't ready. Schmitt however was desperate, he wanted any way to keep the balance of power firmly in Germany's hands."

Abraham tried to pry the syringe out of Schmitt's grip, but was suddenly forced to the floor by Schmitt. Johann wrapped his belt around his elbow, and then stuck the needle into his vein. Erskine looked up in horror, shaking his head as Schmitt injected himself with the formula. Schmitt dropped the needle and let out a satisfied sigh. His expression was one of peace, a man in perfect health. Then he gripped his sides, stepping back and leaning on Erskine's desk for support.

"Erskine's formula unlocked human potential, physical potential, mental potential, many who knew Johann once may have also argued, that it did something to his soul too. Witness as I did Aaron Stack, the creation of a monster, from even the smallest desire to do good."

Johann let out pained grunts, but smiled as his muscles began to expand. He even grew taller by a foot, he wasn't quite a giant, but he looked like the perfect mix of a body that had both strength and speed. But Johann's smile faded as he saw the look of horror on Erskine's face. His hand moved to his scalp, and strands of his hair dropped onto his hands. He suddenly felt the skin on his face get heavier, and he rushed into Erskine's bathroom. Erskine heard the man scream, discovering that his facial skin was beginning to melt like wax. In agony Johann yelled, and in his rage he threw aside furniture. Erskine made his way to the door as Johann fell to his knees. Alone in the house, a wax like puddle formed on the floor. Johann moved into the bath room again, looking at the mirror, his mouth trembling. His hair, and the skin on his face was gone, even his nose was gone. All that was left was his now yellow eyes, and his skull, from now and for as long as he would live, a red skull.

"So the Red Skull was not always a monster?" Aaron asked.

"No one is born good or evil, there is only potential Aaron Stack, and I know that Johann Schmitt, in other worlds, had the potential to do good. As you know, Erskine fled Germany, moving in secret to Queens. When America entered the war, the SSR called on Erskine to fulfil the debt he owed them for their help in his escape."

Another skip in time, and Aaron saw Erskine, this time, appearing much more confident. He spoke with a young blonde haired man. His body was frail, almost as if he was malnourished, and his skin was pale. The young man coughed occasionally, but seemed so much more stable than Johann had been.

"Steve Rogers, the man who would become Captain America," Aaron said.

"Yes, his is a face few forgot," Uatu said.

This time, within a more controlled environment, and watched by politicians and generals, Erskine injected the formula into Steve's arm. Then, Steve was exposed to rays of veta energy, and like Johann before him his muscles grew, the imperfections of his organs were repaired and he emerged from the Veta-rays as a better man.

"But his soul wasn't changed, Steve Rogers was ready for the formula in ways Schmitt wasn't," Uatu said.

The lab was then replaced by a battlefield. Bombs landed on the ruined fields, the sounds of gunfire echoed. A motorcycle suddenly drove across the battlefield. On that motorcycle was Steve Rogers. Over his uniform he wore pads of blue body armour, a white star on his chest, and his helmet had an A symbol on it. As he performed a jump with his bike, he threw an object, disc shaped, fast, and it hit the German soldiers hard. Steve skid to a halt, and the shield bounced off of the armour of a German tank, returning easily to Steve's hand. The shield was coloured red and white, and had the white star on the centre of it.

"Captain America," Aaron's voice drifted in wonder.

Suddenly Namor landed in front of the tank, and flipped it onto its back. German planes fired at Steve, but he easily blocked the bullets with his shield. Then, leaving a trail of fire behind him, the Human Torch flew through the planes like a rocket, hitting one after another. Nodding to one another, Steve and Namor joined their ally in attacking the German frontline, leading allied troops behind them.

"The First Marvels, the founding members of the Invaders," Aaron said.

"Yes, those three were the first, and the ranks of what the allies called 'the Marvels' grew, individuals of great skill, and extraordinary power," Uatu stated.

"But then Captain America went missing in action, the war ended, the Invaders were disbanded, Namor returned to the sea, the Human Torch, like so many other misjudged and abused marvels retreated from public life, people forgot those heroes because they were politically, or socially inconvenient at the time," Aaron explained.

"Indeed, the Marvels either went into hiding, retired or continued their service to their governments, but in the shadows."

"So, you watch the Marvels, but with them gone, what have you been doing all this time?" Aaron asked.

"The universe is bigger than Earth, though the moon is my home, I have witnessed countless other events, the evolution of multiple species and the creation of empires like the Shiar," Uatu said.

"But what about your own people, what happened to them?"

"We kept strict oaths, never to interfere with another world, but hubris was present even amongst my people. Someone with the best of intentions, only created disaster, I am the last of my kind," there was a great sadness in Uatu's voice, and as he spoke, the images of Earth faded and Aaron as back in the observatory.

He looked at the Watcher, who returned to his chain, sitting with his head low, no tears yet Aaron could tell the alien was sad.

"You are still connected to the network Aaron, I was going to make you an offer, but that can wait. Though my eyes are gone, I can still sense when events of significant importance occur. Regardless of what you choose to do in the future, could you witness one event for me?" the Watcher asked.

"You've shown me such wonderful things, I would be glad to be your eyes," Aaron said.

"Thank you, could you walk outside and tell me about what you see?"

Aaron opened one of the doors for the conservatory. He walked into the blue area of the moon, amongst the wreckage of the city that had once been there. Then he ascended, out of the crater, and out of the blue area. Standing amongst the grey wasteland that was the moon, Aaron's eyes scanned the region.

"Uatu, I see astronauts, I cannot make out who is inside their landing craft, but the man taking pictures of the Earth, I see a name on his suit, John Jameson, is that a name of significance Uatu?" Aaron asked.

"It is, but I will tell you later, is that all you see?" Uatu asked.

"I'm afraid it...wait, no, that can't be," Aaron shook his head in denial, his voice was full of it, and a growing sense of fear.

"What is happening Aaron?" inquired the watcher.

"This is impossible, there's another Earth alongside mine," Aaron said.

He looked at the two Earths in horror. Both were slowly moving towards one another. He was suddenly taken to the surface of one, where he continued to narrate to the watcher.

"Its New York, on the other Earth I think. There is a battle going on, ships are moving into the atmosphere, they're unlike anything that should be humanly possible to make. The combatants are dressed in costumes, bright coloured ones, wait portals are opening, more costumed people are joining the fight, it's an all out war. Uatu am I seeing Marvels, modern Marvels? And why are they fighting one another?"

"Their Earth is going to collide with another, obviously they will disagree with how to deal with this crisis," Uatu said.

"What about my Earth? I need to see what is happening to my Earth. Oh god," Aaron gasped, finding himself flying over the oceans and islands of his planet.

"What is happening Aaron?" Uatu asked.

"Tidal waves, land splitting, wreckage falling from the sky, monsters long thought forgotten terrorising cities. So many people are dying on my Earth, and we only have the World Disaster relief organisation to assist us. Wait, natives from the other Earth have come to ours, they're trying to place a bomb of some kind but, soldiers are fighting back. The ring leader, a man without an eye, he's been killed, but not before he took the same eye as the other man."

"Nick Fury lost his eye to himself, most men would go insane with that knowledge, not him!"

"Nick Fury, what is the significance of that name?" Aaron asked.

"That you will see later, what else do you see?"

"New York, there's rubble everywhere, there's a boy walking around."

"Describe him to me."

"Seven or eight years old, blonde hair, grey eyes, he's crying, I think he may be looking for his parents."

"An understandable and common assumption, but keep watching Aaron."

"I wish I could help, he's looking everywhere, can't I just help one person?"

"You couldn't even if you wanted to Aaron, the damage to this boy's life has already been done. But do not despair, one thing I know of humanity is that sometimes tragedy makes you stronger. Aaron, are you all right?"

"Yes Uatu, but there's someone with the boy, yet...isn't, if that makes sense? I can't quite describe him but he's walking closely behind the boy, enough to touch him. I don't think he's there, or visible to the rest of the world," Aaron continued relaying.

 _ **"We're heading into hell you know!"**_

"Did you hear that Uatu, the creature spoke," Aaron said.

"Yes, I did hear it, interesting, it seems that more than one world is interacting with this one today," Uatu hummed.

"I've been taken somewhere else now Uatu. It's a bedroom, a boy a few years older than the last one is there. He's thrashing about in his sleep, the poor boy is sweating, wait...I see red in his eyes, energy is coursing around him."

"Even without my gifts Aaron you were capable of perceiving more than others could. Is there a being there similar to the one you saw with the other boy?" Uatu asked.

"In fact there is Uatu, but it seems, kinder, no, not kind or cruel, just there. But the boy is in so much pain. The door has opened, his parents have come in."

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! QUIT YOUR MUMBLING BOY!"

"Oh my god, they're hitting their own son, Uatu I want to stop this."

"The being Aaron, what is happening to the being?"

"The boy, that poor boy, they left him on the floor, torn off all his bed sheets."

"If you want to sleep so badly when the apocalypse is going on, you can damn well go out there and steal your own sheets, or sleep on the floor if you must."

"That bastard man!"

"Aaron focus, what is happening to the being."

"The boy's on his hands and knees, there's so much anger in his eyes!"

"Forget the boy, focus on the being, what has happened to it?"

"Uatu, its getting darker, that thing watching him is becoming...monstrous, wait...it's looking right at me Uatu," Aaron gasped in fear.

 _ **"GO TO HELL!"**_

Aaron screamed, transporting back to the moon. He looked at his surroundings, breathing a sigh of relief to be with Uatu again.

"What did you see?" the Watcher asked.

"A boy with no parents, with so much love in his heart, and a boy with them, yet filled with so much hatred. What were those things Uatu?" Aaron asked.

"Beings that exist outside of the Spectrum any living creature can see in, tell me more of what is happening, please," Uatu said.

Aaron walked back outside, watching the two Earths. With a heavy heart he continued commentating.

"I can see what is happening in the distance, one Earth is evacuating, but my Earth can't. There is a craft of some kind in between the planets, it appears to be crashing. May I take a closer look?" he asked.

"Of course Aaron, they are your eyes," Uatu said.

Aaron transported himself onto Earth. There was a small camp set up in the Mexico desert. A scientist he recognised as Brian Foster, looked between his playing daughter, and the instruments he used to monitor the skies. His friend Eric Selvig took a seat beside him, smiling at little Jane.

"They say this is the end of the world, that there was another Earth in our atmosphere, shouldn't you spend a last moment with her?" Eric asked.

"I am spending it with her, she likes my work," Brian said.

Jane Foster looked up at the sky and pointed at the lights. This caught Brian and Eric's eyes, and with Brian grabbing onto Jane, they rushed to their truck. They followed the direction of the lights, and where the object Brian had been monitoring, ultimately crashed. All three got out of the car and cautiously approached the object, electricity was sparking around the craft, which slowly began to open. What emerged from the craft, was unlike anything they had seen before, unlike anything Aaron himself had ever seen before. He returned to the moon, confronting Uatu giddily.

"Its him, it's really him isn't it, so many people believed them to be legends but they're real aren't they? They were just a different species like you weren't they?" the machine man asked.

"Some gods are of humanity's own design, others are simple misinterpretations, a result of being seen by a less primitive society, what do you see now Aaron?"

Again Aaron walked out onto the moon. He looked towards his Earth and the other Earth, as they finally began to crash together. Suddenly, a bright light shined, and Aaron shielded his eyes. Slowly the light began to fade, and Aaron looked at a single Earth, but he could see something else, the faint outline of another Earth. He looked to his right and gasped, seeing a ghostly image. It was like a mirror, following his movements, yet looked very different. Instead of being transparent, the machine man had layers of shifting purple and silver armour on its body, its face was exposed and looked remarkably human, except for its red eyes, eyes identical to Aaron's. When the mirror image faded, Aaron quickly walked to Uatu's side again.

"It is astonishing, incredible, marvellous," he sang, overcome by the joy of scientific discovery.

"Tell me what you saw Aaron Stack," Uatu requested.

"Two worlds not crashing together, but merging together, creating two distinct, very different Earths that exist within the same place, but vibrate at a different frequency," Aaron explained.

"Yes, you see Aaron, we can catch glimpses of other worlds, yet our focus must always be on events significant to this world, and timelines that branch from events on this world. Before you give me your answer Aaron, please look at the boy in New York one last time, tell me what has become of him?"

Aaron teleported himself to the streets of New York again. There he saw numerous emergency services, including the world disaster response agency, doing what they could for the casualties of this disaster. He focused in particular on the blonde haired boy, being carried on a stretcher. The boy's chest rose up and down, showing Aaron that he was still alive. Traversing the grand distance, Aaron walked to Uatu's side.

"The boy lives Uatu, the boy lives," he said.

Uatu sat and put his hands together, Aaron guessed it was some kind of thank you, looking remarkably like a prayer.

"So what is your answer Aaron Stack?" the Watcher asked.

"I have seen a great many terrible things, but I have also seen great things, things that are..." Aaron paused, struggling to find the appropriate word.

"You said earlier that it was Marvellous," Uatu said.

If Aaron could smile, he would, what he did do was laugh, merrily.

"Let me be your eyes Uatu, let me see more of this world," he said.

Uatu nodded his head and pointed to the Earth.

"Let us begin then Aaron, tell me what else you see."

Next Arc 1: Fusion

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Note: This prologue chapter was based on a very good miniseries called Earth X, the beginning issues being told from the point of view of Aaron Stack, the Machine man, whose design in this world is based on his Earth X version.

The Watcher's appearance is meant to be more alien, not just a giant bald guy, but some elements of his design remains the same such as the presence of blue and white robes.

Hope everyone enjoyed the prologue, the next chapter gets into the first story arc and the introduction of some key characters in the fic.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

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Marvellous World

Arc 1: Fusion

Chapter 1: leaving home

She ran her red coated nails across the paper, tracing each letter typed out. First she read them in her head, then she read them out loud.

"On this day ten years ago, tragedy consumed this planet, during what we now refer to as the great Cataclysm. Our world was forever changed, and this day I can proudly say, that whilst I still remember the dead, I also remember the great achievements that were born from the aftermath of that tragedy. Humanity is now united in a way that is unprecedented, many former enemies have put their differences aside and worked towards a better future."

Peggy Carter sighed, the woman appeared to be in her forties, but in actuality was much older. The evidence of that, was the black and white picture on her desk, showing her standing with the first Marvels. These was of course the Human Torch and Namor, the Torch's sidekick Toro, other enhanced humans such as Union Jack, Spitfire and the Thunderer. But the one Peggy stood closest to was the one she believed to be the greatest of them all, Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America.

The world she lived in was a crazy one, nothing was as simple as it used to be. She was living proof, she had reached her hundreds now, retaining her youth and physical fitness because of one of the numerous attempts to recreate her lost lover. The apply named 'Infinity formula' had made her close to matching Steve's physical perfection, at the expense of outliving her husband.

Her long career, years of experience and enhanced body made her ideal for commanding the world's premier response agency, the WDRA. Since the great cataclysm, Peggy began moving the agency more into the line of a military power, off the books and secret from the United nations. That meant however that she had to be careful with whom she let into the agency, who she let out and what advancements she chose to make.

'Things were so much simpler Steve,' she thought, stroking the area on the picture Steve was on.

She tore up her speech and threw the pieces of paper in the bin, taking out her pen and paper to write a new one. The world wasn't united, not really, there was no major war on, but humanity itself was not ready for one, at least not for anything that wasn't humanity itself. People said the age of Marvels was over, Peggy believed differently, and more and more there was evidence that proved her correct. She looked at the blurred photos confiscated from the Bugle, showing the silhouette of a boy in red and blue, swinging across New York skyscrapers.

'They're out there Steve, but they're divided, they can't protect their country the way you did,' she crossed out one line, then another, before tearing the paper again.

There was a sudden knock at her door.

"Come in," she said, looking to the door as it opened.

"I'm sorry to interrupt ma'am but Mr Stark is here," her secretary was a blonde haired woman, recently out of college, but still extremely bright.

"Let him in Susan," she said.

Susan moved aside, letting a tall, dark haired man into the room. He wore a sharp, expensive looking suit, though Peggy expected it to look much more expensive. The man had a reputation for extravagance, but Peggy had to squint at the man and wonder if it was really him. His hair seemed messier, and the goatee headlines knew him for had been replaced with a beard.

"Director Carter, wish I could say it's good to see you again," the man said.

Anthony Stark was a man known for his charming personality and arrogance. It was a well founded arrogance, the man graduated from MIT at a very young age, possessed a brilliant mind and created numerous revolutionary inventions. His company though designed only weapons, these weapons continued to make America the greatest military power in the world. But two years ago something happened that the American people didn't expect, something that angered many people in the military, Peggy included. Stark disbanded the weapon's development program, and began selling shares of his international company.

"I wish I could say it's good to see you too Stark, but that would be a lie," Peggy said.

"I figured that was something you were good at," Stark retorted.

"I beg your pardon," Peggy's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Stark wasn't known for being an aggressive man. When he got drunk he was merry, and often made a fool of himself. But the man hadn't been drinking, and he definitely wasn't joking.

"A few years ago you said to me that Captain America was dead," Stark reached into his coat pocket, taking out a miniaturised computer tablet, much thinner than an I-pod and much more powerful, one of Stark industries patents, known as the Stark-Tab.

He placed the Tab on the table and tapped it, bringing up a holographic image of a mapped area in the Antarctic.

"You and my father have a history, you've taken good care of him, but you're doing something that spits in the face of everything you have been telling the American people. You lied to them, you lied to my father and you've lied to me too and people have died because of it Carter," Stark explained.

"Tony listen..."

"My Mum called me Tony, my dad called me Tony, my friends call me Tony, you aren't either of those things Carter, and I have listened to justifications, I've even made justifications. Well I'm not going to make them anymore Carter, because I see the WDRA for what it is, shut the projects down Carter, or I'll start blowing the whistle, I don't care if I get dragged down with you."

He stood up, beginning to walk towards the door.

"What happened out there Stark?" Peggy asked.

Tony paused, his hand on the handle, head hung low.

"I watched young men and women die, killed by the very weapons I designed to protect them. We are part of a system Carter that has zero accountability, there's no responsibility," Tony shook his head as he looked back at Carter. "You've made sacrifices, you're not the woman you used to be, he probably wouldn't love you anymore if he knew just what you had done."

A hurt and offended expression crossed Peggy's face. Her hands tightened, and she looked away from Tony. Embarrassed with himself, he wiped the bridge of his nose and huffed, slightly ashamed. He remembered a more friendly time, emphasised by the photos of her with his father, and then with him, his appearance much cleaner back then.

"I just want you to know I, I actually still think you're a good person Carter, it's the people that will come after you I don't trust, and the people above you," he said before he opened the door.

"Stark, are you willing to go to war?" Peggy asked, again making Tony stop and look at her. "You saw a little bit of action, you were captive for a few months, you are not a soldier Stark."

"You're damn right I'm not a soldier, I'm an army," he retorted, before slamming the door shut behind him.

Peggy again threw aside the paper and reached into her drawers. She pulled out a book filled with phone numbers. In the same drawer there was an old phone with a rotating dial on it, dialling in the numbers, she waited patiently.

"This is Loeb's what can we do for you?" a voice asked on the other end.

"I'd like to make a dinner reservation please, dinner for three, will Ditko and Busiek be playing?" Peggy asked.

"That depends on when you want to book," said the voice.

"Tonight, I'm sorry for the short notice."

"That's quite all right, I must inform you that payment is upfront."

"That's okay, I'm a member," Peggy said, removing a set of coins from the same drawer.

* * *

She didn't quite know what to pack, or whether what she had packed was enough. Her mum and dad assured her that, she always had a place to stay there. But she knew what they were thinking, how difficult it would be for her, how they couldn't understand her, but the man with the mechanical legs could. She folded up another one of her favourite green shirts, putting it in her suit case. The red haired girl, a beauty by the standards of most, narrowed her eyes and beckoned for the wardrobe drawers to open. They opened, following the movement of her fingers. Moving her fingertips in a grabbing motion, she tried to take one of her coats, only for everything crammed into the wardrobe to suddenly fall out.

"Everything all right Jean?" her mother asked, making her way up the stairs.

It was a small house, the walls were thin, so she couldn't do anything without her mother or father hearing. Her mother was the only one in, her father John was on call at his office, still doing the work of a doctor. He always believed in helping others, even forgoing emotional leave to continue treating patients, even if it meant his daughter would be alone. Jean's mother wasn't a doctor, and she could tell the woman was struggling to find the right thing to say. She followed the woman's gaze, towards the pills on her desk.

'She wanted me to find them,' the woman thought, and she was right.

Small tears began to trickle down Jean's eyes.

"They stop the pain," Jean said.

"The professor said that the pain is literally in your mind, how many have you taken?" her mother asked.

"Just enough to make me drowsy, I can't hear the people across the street now so..."

"So no Jean, this is not how you get control, this is how you lose control."

"The voice of experience," Jean retorted, and instantly regretted it.

Her mother and father both had similar eyes, and a very good way to use those eyes to make her feel bad. Jean's mother had a problem before Jean was born, meeting her father changed that. Jean sensed how her mother hoped she would find someone who would save her.

"Don't hold your breath," she said, speaking to her as if her thoughts weren't private.

"That's another reason you're going Jean, control needs to be about more than just being able to control it, it needs to be about knowing how and when to use it too," the woman explained.

She sat her daughter on the edge of the bed and held her hand, the way she used to when Jean was little.

"Now I know things are tough especially after what happened to..."

"Mum please don't give me platitudes right now," Jean snapped.

Again her mum gave her the look. She shook her head and stood up, continuing Jean's packing for her.

'You're reading my mind right now Jean, you're right, you know the platitudes now anyway,' she thought.

When they were finished, Jean hugged her mother and walked to the car with her bags.

'There goes the Grey girl.'

'Who on Earth are those people?'

'Finally they're getting her help.'

She could hear the people watching her, but when she got into the car, the voices stopped. Sat in the seat next to her was the Professor her mother spoke of. He was a tall, bald man wearing a cheap and smart suit, a pair of crutches were set in front of him.

"I thought you could do with some silence for a while," he said, tapping a finger to his head.

His warm smile put her at ease, and for a moment Jean wondered if it was because the man was in her head. Then she realised she didn't care. The man looked at the woman in the driver's seat, she was a dark haired woman with black markings on her eyes.

"Let's go home Tessa," he said.

"As you say Professor," the woman said, before she began to drive.

"I know it's not where you grew up Jean, but I hope you can see one day, that the school can be as much a home to you as the one you've left."

She nodded her head, still not convinced though.

 **"You'll meet people like us there,"** Charles's voice echoed in her head.

Jean looked at Charles, the man was still smiling.

 **"You aren't the only one with gifts Jean,"** again he spoke without actually moving his mouth.

Slowly a smile spread across her face, Jean Grey knew she wasn't alone anymore.

* * *

Likewise in Queens, a mother was saying goodbye to her child. But in not the same way Jean Grey's mother was. There were no extenuating circumstances forcing May Parker's nephew to no longer live with her. The brown haired, thirty nine year old woman hugged the young man, eighteen years old and ready to live in the city with friends.

"Now remember, if MJ introduces you to a nice girl, always use protection," she said.

"Aunt Maay," Peter groaned.

He was a short and slim teen. Brown haired and brown eyed, facial traits May often saw in her husband and brother in law. Peter had a van behind him, with his friends making faces out of the window. Harry Osborn, like Peter he had brown hair and was short and slim. But they were both opposites in their presentation. Harry's hair was finely combed, he wore more expensive and smarter clothes, some of Peter's clothes were worn, and his hair was cut and styled cheaply.

"Don't worry MP, my friend's always insist on protection," said the van's driver.

She was a red haired girl, wearing jeans and a tank top that showed a great, athletic figure. Mary Jane was another good friend of Peter's, not the kind of person to hang out in the girl crowd at high school, she had been with Peter and Harry since they were children. May kissed Peter's forehead, giving him another hug.

"I'm going to visit regularly you know," he said.

"Don't waste your money, you'll need to save for rent," May said.

"I'll walk."

"Queens is a long way from the city young man, now have fun, just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So I could attend a pretty wild party, take part in underage drinking and drugs?" Peter asked, grinning.

May shook her head, she had been quite a party animal in her youth. Likewise, despite the lectures her husband gave Peter, he too had been very active on the party scene. But then they both got their acts together, and were left wondering if they had done it sooner, would they have a more expensive house and a better lifestyle for their nephew.

"Great power..." the woman said, her eyes and voice firm.

"Great responsibility," Peter said quietly.

He lowered his head, the joy of a new adventure drained. A memory from a couple of years ago crept into his mind. It wasn't a happy one, just one that filled him with so much regret. Seeing this though May tipped Peter's chin up and smiled.

"He'd be so proud of you," she said.

Peter slowly nodded his head, and tearfully hugged his aunt. When he got into the van, Mary Jane and Harry didn't tease him. His best friend patted his shoulder, in complete understanding.

* * *

Not every choice to leave home, left time to pack, or even for something better. For most it wasn't even a choice, and especially in this world, often came as a result of tragedy. A dark haired man stood over two graves, both labelled 'Maria Castle' but one life was tragically shorter than the other. The man hadn't been drinking, he had a focused look on his face, as if he had decided exactly what he needed to do with the rest of his life. There was still one obstacle facing him though, not one that impeded his path, but a task he felt he had to carry out.

It was an explanation, one he had to give to his wife and child, his reason for the path he would walk down. Frank Castle took off his wedding band, placing it on his wife's gravestone. Part of him knew that he would no longer be the man she fell in love with. From his jacket he removed a stuffed toy and story book, the only things of his daughter he hadn't burned or given to charity, He pushed the doll up against the stone.

"One batch, two batch, penny and dime," he read, one final time for his girl.

* * *

Sometimes when a person was forced to leave home it is what results in tragedy. A common thing in this world, is that people, good and bad, are changed. They unintentionally become the creators of tragedies, they sow death and destruction without meaning to. For this is a world where terrible power can manifest itself in even a normal person. The transparent man watched for his master, watched a great power claim a poor soul. He was not seen or heard, but he could see and hear.

The blonde haired, blue eyed teen, Gary was his name, had it all. He was to take part in an English Lit course at Empire State University. He had a large circle of friends, a girlfriend and a bright future ahead of him. In a future, he would have graduated from ESU, and would publish a book on the controversial super human and mutation phenomenon. His book would inspire understanding in people, leading closer to a world where mutation was accepted. He would then go on to form close friendships with what would become a massive community of super heroes. His long time girlfriend would become his wife, and their children would become members of the greatest mutant team on the planet.

But that was only one future that the Watcher saw. It was not the future that Gary would go down. Gary stood shirtless in his kitchen, flipping pancakes for his girlfriend. Elizabeth loved cooked breakfasts, and Gary loved pleasing her. He smiled as she came out of the bedroom, her brown hair messy from the bed.

"Amazing night," she said.

"Yeah, I can't believe Conners was actually able to get us drinks," he said.

"You're the one who convinced him."

"What can I say Liz, I have a way with people," the young man smiled as he put her food on the plate.

Liz had a stunning plus size figure, one she was happy to show off in her bra and panties today. Likewise Gary wore just his boxers, watching his girlfriend eat, both knowing they'd be having sex within a few more minutes. Elizabeth stopped however, when she noticed the look of pain on Gary's face, and the way he gripped his stomach.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Everything's just perfect," Gary put a smile on his face, and reached down to kiss the woman he loved.

Aaron, the transparent man, the machine man, the Watcher's eyes, shook his head. Perhaps everything was perfect for Gary once, but he knew what the boy's definitive future was, far from perfect.

Instantly, Aaron was in another place. He saw a young blonde haired man, eighteen years old, his hair darker than Gary's, shorter and not as well built, not fat but not muscular either. The young man wore an old brown jacket and cargo trousers. He knelt down slightly, writing something down on a piece of paper, his grey eyes studying what he had written before he put the pen down. The young man stood up fully, slapped his cheeks and smiled. As he walked out of his house, leaving the key behind, leaving his phone behind, Aaron walked over to the table.

 _"No time like the present, thought I'd get on the road, say bye to everyone for me_ ," Aaron read out loud. _"With lots of luvin, Sven!"_

Next Chapter 2: Gifted

* * *

Hope everyone liked the first chapter for the first arc. Just to clarify, Gary is not the main character, but he will play a key role in the first arc. He's a play on the Gary Stu characters, except, ironically, things are going to go very wrong for him.

Some details, May is younger in this than she is in the comics. Don't get me wrong, I like the original May, despite the fact she looked more like his grand aunt than his aunt, but that was her character, she was vulnerable, someone Peter had to support. But with this May there is a more apparent strength to her, not someone who needs Peter's help but he's trying to help anyway because she's in a house meant for two.

Charles Xavier, he doesn't appear in his signature wheelchair. He's not paralysed, but an amputee. The idea is that he was rich, an army veteran, so he can afford prosthetics, but they aren't perfect so he moves around in crutches. He's a strong man who wants to keep his independence, and part of his character is that he is afraid of the possibility of ending up on a wheelchair.

Anyway next time we'll be introduced to the X-men and the world of Mutants.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

The introduction of one of Marvel's premier teams, and a very different approach to mutation.

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 2: Gifted

"When I was thirteen, I started to hear voices in my head. A year later I figured out the voices weren't coming from me, but everyone around me. The nights were the worst, I would feel everyone's dreams and nightmares, for a time I had developed a sleep disorder. By the time I was able to convince the doctors my stepfather hired to treat me, that I wasn't hearing voices anymore, I also discovered that I could not simply limit myself to reading thoughts."

Jean was ecstatic, listening to Charles Xavier. The man had lived an interesting life, having served as a medic in the army and even have been part of the disaster response agency. It was halfway through their journey that Charles told Jean of how he first began to manifest his powers. Despite some of the painful memories, Charles's face was a mask of utter calm, as if he was at peace with his past.

"Through control of my powers I could see through another person's eyes, or through an animal's eyes. I can make myself invisible to another, and project my thoughts into them. A more aggressive use of my powers however, includes an ability to manipulate a person's memories, or to control them entirely," Charles explained.

"Have you ever..." Jean paused, unsure of how exactly to ask her question.

"Once I was able to calm a friend, but he realised what I had done and our relationship has been strained. Another time I used my powers resulted in my wife divorcing me, her last thoughts weren't kind," that was the moment Charles's mask fell, but only for a moment.

He had also opened himself to Jean, sharing with her his thoughts. She felt the regret in his mind and heart, and fought back a tear.

"Your friend, you were like brothers, you were going to run this school of yours together until you went your separate ways. And your wife, she's living in Scotland, she married a man who hurt her more than you did," Jean explained, recounting the thoughts he had given her.

"Yes, Max was my closest friend, but unfortunately we both walk different paths. You're young Jean, you are going to make mistakes, my job and my hope is that I can teach you to control your abilities, to make reasonable decisions, and to hopefully grow into and graduate a young woman ready to be a part of society," Charles explained, smiling as he rolled his window down.

Jean looked through the window and gasped at what she saw. The campus was huge and stunning, built on a mansion estate. It had been in Charles's family, on his mother's side for years. She had left it to him in her will, but he had only returned to the mansion ten years ago, just before the great cataclysm hit. Sage parked the car and remained in the driver's seat. Charles balanced on his crutches, his legs shaking slightly, but planting softly on the ground. He limped down the stone paving, leading towards the front door. Jean grabbed her bags, struggling with the last one until a pair of hands grabbed it. She turned to the person helping her, a handsome, blonde haired boy in a trench coat.

The boy knew it, and thought Jean was more than pretty, in fact his thoughts made her blush.

"Hi, you must be Jean, I'm Warren," the young man lifted the bag onto his shoulder, winking at Jean.

She suppressed a giggle, walking with Warren and following the professor's path.

"So how long have you been at the school Warren?" she asked.

"Six months now, Scott and Hank have been here the longest, about two years between them, and Bobby has been here for four weeks," Warren said.

"What's your mutant ability?" Jean asked.

"You'll find out later Jean," Warren smiled as they reached the door.

Charles was already waiting, leaning against the wall. From the ceiling, snow suddenly began falling onto the carpet. Warren shook his head as a young, brown haired boy stood at the top of the stairs.

"Welcome to the Xavier school for the gifted, I'm Bobby Drake and I hope you survive the experience," the boy grinned as he flung his arm, releasing petals of snow.

"You're cleaning that up Robert," Charles called out to the running boy.

"Fat chance Prof," Bobby laughed.

Jean looked at the inside of the mansion in awe. It had been altered from its original drab, wooden walls, instead having bright beige wall paper. The drawers and tables set out across the rooms were fine and smooth, recently bought. Then there was the photos, Charles's mother was beautiful and there were even family photos. Two variants, one showing Charles, his mother and people Jean assumed were his father and sister. The second showed Charles as a teen with a younger, Caucasian and brown haired boy.

"After my father died my mother found love with a colleague of his, who had a son," Charles said, hopping to Jean's side and looking at both photos.

"Do you still keep in touch with them?" Jean asked.

"Actually my step father died before the great Cataclysm, and my step brother Cain is in prison, one wayward youth I couldn't help I'm afraid," Charles smiled, though Jean could tell it was a painful memory, without her powers.

He moved on, showing Jean the kitchen and dining area. There he explained that since there was a small student body, they were expected to make their own breakfasts and to clean as they did. He also gave her some advice about the jobs that would be available for youths in Westchester. Charles would give out loans, but eventually the students had to get jobs somehow. There walk took them to one of the student's rooms, and Charles casually opened the door.

"Okay sir, you might not have a virus it could be a matter of memory, you need to debuff your computer," the young man inside was sitting on an office chair, a headset around his head.

"Henry here has a tech support line, I believe he has three hours left on his shift so you'll meet him later," Charles said.

Henry was a bulky but short man, built like a gorilla with his massive arms and feet. His feet though in particular were very large, suggesting a physical mutation, which was a rarity. Charles closed the door and led Jean to the library. She whistled out of awe over how big it was.

"Have you read all of these?" she asked.

"A good few, when I was a boy I didn't read a lot, some are even in different languages, Scott there has been through quite a few," Charles said.

Jean looked up at one of the platforms. There, she saw a slim, brown haired boy reading one of the books. He was wearing odd glasses made of a ruby material. Scott was so focused on his book that he didn't notice Bobby sneaking towards him, gradually shifting his skin into a snow like substance, turning himself into a snow monster. Bobby puffed out his chest, snuck up behind Scott and prepared to roar.

"Don't even think about it," Scott said.

Bobby blew a raspberry, making Scott slam the book to keep the snow off of it.

"What are you gonna do Cyclops?" Bobby asked.

"Bobby, ten demerits, and you made the mess you clean it up," Charles said.

The boy huffed at Charles's father like tone. But it made Jean even more fond of the prospect of staying here. Everyone was relaxed and comfortable, Scott was a bit unsociable, but Charles was making everyone feel welcome and part of the family. After showing Jean her room and letting her leave her bags there, they walked to the lobby, where Tessa waited with a wheelchair. Charles sat on the chair and moved it to Jean's side. The boys also began gathering.

"A little something we do when a new student arrives, we take down the old class photo and we replace it with a new one," Charles explained.

"Lovely to meet you Miss Grey, Henry McCoy but you can call me Hank," the big footed student said.

Jean smiled as he shook Hank's hand. He then crouched on the floor, slipping his arm around Bobby. They held the pose as Tessa began setting up the camera. Warren and Scott both stood close to Jean, though Jean noticed that Scott stood with his hand on Charles's wheelchair.

"I'm Scott, Scott Summers," he said.

"Jean Grey," she smiled at him.

The slither of a smile crossed his face before he looked at the camera. Unlike the others, his face seemed more serious, as if he was taking a profile picture. With a flash the photo was taken.

"Welcome to the Xavier school for the gifted, hope you..."

"Yeah I already did that part Hank," Bobby chuckled.

* * *

 **Empire State University**

"Mutation, the phenomenon was first recorded in Genosha in the nineteen sixteens, when a young boy generated a storm of electromagnetic energy. People initially believed that it was a case isolated to Genosha, leading to the world disaster response agency to respond, treating it as an epidemic. But more throughout the world, cases of mutation began to arise.

"There are three forms of mutation, mental, projectional, and physical, the mental mutation leads to the formation of an altered brain, one capable of enhanced perception, senses, and in some cases abilities compared to telepathy and technopathy, the control of the brain. Projectional mutations, alter the body itself to absorb and produce energy, this can be from solar power, electricity, even sometimes kinetic force, like the body's own movement or an object hitting the skin. Then there are physical mutations, those that alter the very shape of the body.

"Mutation can occur as early on as the first stage of puberty, but some cases have been known to appear as late as eighteen. Usually they manifest at a time of high emotional stress, be it a moment of anger, joy or grief. The DSSO has formed a sub division, known as the mutant response division, or MRD for short. They are specifically equipped to handle the types of incidents that can arise from mutations.

"Mutant manifestation, or awakening is considered a major incident because they can typically result in the loss of life. Eighty percent of mutants with either mutation die because of their inability to control their new abilities. Physical mutations being the lower number of people whom die, because a majority of physical mutations result in the expanding or disfigurement of the person's body, those whom do survive their physical mutation live disabled for the rest of their lives. Projection and mental mutations are widely considered the most dangerous, as the people are unable to control their energy projection or enhanced senses. Projection mutations usually result in a severe loss of life, but there have also been cases of mutations involving a form of telepathy, that, can result in the deaths, or brain damage of multiple persons.

"People have been accused of bigotry, but only because those people do not understand the specifics behind mutation. Once the science is understood, and even the morality, people can understand that, mutation is a dangerous phenomenon, not a disease, but a condition that must be managed, if not, people die, and people have died.

"Six years after the great cataclysm, Brooklyn born teenage girl, Sarah Rushman manifested her physical mutation abilities. The bones in her body began to change shape, first her spine produced several spikes out of her back, she was left disfigured but that was not the worst of it, these new bones discharged from her body, resulting in several casualties, amongst them numerous civilians and a handful of MRD agents."

"Two years ago, Boston born Kevin Ford developed a projectional mutation. His body generated a biofield, that, upon contact with any organic material, could cause it to wither. This resulted in his father's death, and the deaths of many of his neighbours and public service workers, before the MRD were able to imprison him.

"One year ago, in Westchester, a mutant with a mental mutation began a rampage, demonstrating that whilst some mutants can gain control of their powers, they can still be a danger to society. Though some argue that Quintavius Quirinius Quire..."

"Stop, please stop okay," the teacher was barely able to stifle his laughter anymore.

Gary looked at his teacher, George Tarleton, a big headed, brown haired man, who considered himself one of the smartest men at the university. He was an exceptional mathematician and a decent scientist in the form of genetics, he knew more about mutation that most in the school.

"You've got incredible amounts of detail here, but you're in an English Lit course, I can't look at this and decide whether it is a good piece of writing," George explained.

"But the details are right?" Gary asked.

"Of course, I like how you've put in the references, including the transcript from your visit to the MRD. Science is about the information, Literature is a matter of presentation, and being able to keep the attention of your readers. I'd recommend the most recent cases of mutant manifestation, the Dukes case from Texas, the Petrakis incident in Germany, these have been in the news recently, you'll get points for current, relevant events. Or you could open with the cases you talked about before, the specific numbers behind them. Science is about informing your readers, English Lit is about capturing them, your woods need to have impact."

"Wow, thanks for this Professor, it really helped," Gary said.

"You're welcome, and if you're going to talk about the Westchester case, call him Quinton Quire, or that nickname the media gave him, Kid Omega was it?" George asked.

"It seems a little silly doesn't it, giving them nicknames?"

"Tell that to Iron man and Spider-man," George chuckled.

Gary collected his papers, thanked the professor and left his office. Elizabeth suddenly jumped on his back, kissing his cheek.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

"It needs a complete rewrite, but it needs to be presented in two days," Gary said.

"You'll pull it off," Liz said, kissing Gary's cheek again.

They linked arms and began walking down the corridors. When they got outside, they saw a pickup truck, parked outside one of the dorms. A red haired girl and two brown haired boys were moving their stuff in.

"Should we welcome the newbies?" Gary asked.

"I don't see why not," Liz smiled.

They walked over to the dorm, one of the brown haired boys had already gone inside, leaving the neatly dressed one and the red haired girl at the car.

"Welcome to ESU," Gary said.

"Thank you," the brown haired boy smiled. "Harry Osborn, Physics and business studies," he offered Gary his hand.

"Gary, English Lit and sociology," the young man had a pretty firm grip, already showing the basics of the 'first greeting'.

Liz blushed slightly as Harry took her hand and kissed it.

"I'm going to go out of a limb and say, acting right?" he asked.

"No, genetics actually," she smirked as the red haired girl laughed.

"Not all stunners have to go for acting or modelling Harry," she said. "I'm Mary Jane, just call me MJ, media studies and photography, so genetics would make you one of Curt Conners students' right?"

Liz and MJ shook hands, and Gary noted that Mary had a firm handshake too. He also noticed her eyes scanning Liz's for a moment, checking her out as if impressed. After Liz introduced herself, MJ shook Gary's hand too. To their surprise, the new trio already knew Professor Conners. He used to work for Harry's father, an industrialist.

'Norman Osborn, now I see,' Gary thought.

Save for the way Harry styled his hair, he was a dead ringer for his father. After his stint at Oscorp, Conners moved to teaching, he taught at Midtown high, where MJ, Harry and Peter attended.

"He was a great guy, Peter's in genetics too," Harry said.

"When are we going to meet him?" Liz asked.

"Hey Pete, come down here," Mary called to the window.

Inside the house, Peter had been putting a few of his bags in his room, pausing to look out of the window. He walked down the stairs and out of the house, greeting the couple. They talked about their courses, the kind of things ordinary teens did. In the midst of their conversation, Gary told them about a party a friend of his was planning that night. When the couple moved on, they continued unpacking. Harry looked over their fridge, shaking his head at the old design.

"I'll get us the latest model," he said.

"We'll all contribute, no need to ask daddy," MJ said.

"What's the point of me having a rich dad if I can't take advantage of how little interest he has?" Harry asked.

"Your dad is a jerk Harry, but at least his moderate interest and zero affection, beats my dad's zero interest and zero affection, except for when he wants me to get him a beer, or to borrow money...when I don't have a job (which kind of makes zero sense)," Mary explained.

"Look MJ when it comes to whose dad sucks the most, your dad beats mine," Harry smirked.

"You know there are a few more rooms, maybe we should make a fraternity, requirement: your dad has to suck," MJ chuckled.

Harry however shook his head strongly. The red haired girl stopped and looked over her shoulder. Peter was standing with his back to them, looking to see if anything was in the drawers, or he at least seemed to be. He turned around, smiling at both his friends.

"I'm going to go and see Conners, catch up with him, see you guys later," he said.

"Peter wait, Peter I'm sorry," MJ said, but stopped as Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's all go, it'll be great to see him again," Harry linked arms with MJ and draped his arm across Peter's neck, getting him in a head lock.

"Harry," Peter offered a veined resistance, eventually relaxing as they broke into a walk.

"Conners was the best right? Much better than the guy they got to replace him, what was his name? Niles?"

"Miles, and it's 'Professor Warren,' Mr Osborn, should I speak with your father about speaking out in class, and proper etiquette?" MJ put on a stern, masculine voice, dragging out some of her words.

"Well you could, but you're probably too busy perving up your students," Peter finally broke his silence, laughing at Harry's retort, something that made MJ laugh too.

* * *

Curt Conners lab was supposedly one of the best labs in the city. It was ranked in the top five, taking the fourth position, just above Max Modell's and below Norman Osborn's. Though the ranking was likely to change, the number one spot being occupied by a man who was changing his company. The ESU lab looked like the class room of the future. Every desk was a lab in itself, burners, mixers, decontamination equipment, and protected digital displays of science databases.

At the front however was where the real toys were. There were chambers for specimens, at the centre of it there was an isolated, metallic and semicircular canopy. That was where Conners was working, the skinny, sixty year old, wore a typical lab coat. But he couldn't work on the machinery, he had to have an engineer do that. He talked the man through the process, in great detail.

"Thank you, I'd work on it myself but," Conners awkwardly apologised to the man.

"No problem Professor, next time call for help first thing," the engineer said.

"My hands just aren't what they used to be," Curt moved his fingers about, the numbness fading from them.

When the engineer left, Curt walked into his office. His pet Iguana was sitting in its glass case. He envied the animal.

"Professor Conners," a voice spoke at the entrance to the classroom.

"Come in, how can I help?" Conners asked, before he even got out of his chair.

He walked at the only pace he could, slowly, smiling at the person despite not knowing them. The visitor was a blonde haired boy, wearing a brown jacket. There was an earnest look on the young man's face, reminding Curt of his son Billy, as well as some of his more inquisitive students.

"My name is Sven Reilly sir, I was wondering if I could talk to you about your work with Oscorp?"

As soon as the boy asked that question however, Curt's friendly smile faded.

* * *

Unknown location

 **"Beginning run."**

The computerised voice gave way to a series of clicks and clacks, as the walls of the large, square shaped room, began to shift. The floor and ceiling were tiled white, whilst the walls were green. On one of the walls was a glass window, where a blonde haired man in a black suit watched the 'run'. He watched the four figures inside the room, each of them going through a different exercise.

They were four teenagers, all of them dressed in matching uniforms. The uniforms were black, save for the chest areas, which were yellow across the shoulders and neck, the yellow ran down the body, left the sides black and joined at the belt. The belt was yellow, and the buckles had black X's on a red background on them. Each of the boys wore black cowls that left their mouth's and eyes exposed. Three of them wore yellow boots and gloves, but the fourth had yellow on his wrists and heels, his hands and feet themselves exposed.

He was a short but bulky young man, who was currently going through an acrobatics session. Obstacles protruded from the compartments on the east wall, poles, and rings and revolving posts, all easily dodged by the teen. He jumped and flipped off of each of them, performing feats likable to master gymnasts. But he also used his large feet as well, flipping off of posts with them. His movements, and the way his fingers were slightly stretched, seemed reminiscent of a gorilla, but more controlled and graceful.

The ceiling also revealed an assortment of obstacles. Ones the winged boy in the group dodged as well. His wings were massive, feather appendages that had stretched out of his back. Weaving and squeezing between the poles and hoops, the winged man dived, then pulled himself up. He hit his wings flying underneath another pole, making the blonde haired man shake his head.

That disdain only increased when the supervisor looked at the third member of the group. He was the youngest and shortest of them, and faced what should have been an easy task, considering his abilities. The boy slid underneath a mechanical arm, and was spraying a mist from his hands, like an extinguisher. Small particles of ice formed on the gears of the arm, and their movements slowed.

"HA, take that UGH!" the boy was suddenly in the chest by the arm, throwing him onto his back.

"Danger, stop Iceman's program, increase difficulty on Beast's and Cyclops's," the observer said, his voice had an echo and monotone to it, like a computer.

 **"As you wish Cypher!"**

The voice was soon followed by the 'Beast's' wall sliding out completely, revealing more obstacles, platforms and pillars that continually slid out. Beast jumped on top of them, timing his jumps, and following the pattern as Cypher expected. Near the far from of the room, panels on the wall rotated and revealed multiple launchers, that fired yellow discs shapes at their target. This target however, quickly shot them down with red beams.

Cyclops, fired these beams from the visor across his eyes. He was taller than Iceman but slimmer than him, and rather than moving, he simply changed where he was looking. His hand continually pushed the button on the visor he wore, opening the ruby quarts slit on it, just enough to release the energy in his eyes. Cypher nodded his head in approval of the boy's performance. What he lacked in body strength or stamina, he made up for in accuracy.

Behind Cypher, the door suddenly opened, revealing none other than Charles Xavier. Only he wasn't using his crutches, but instead sitting on a wheelchair. The chair was made of a simple leather, framed by metallic arm and foot rests. The wheels attached to the engine had X shapes on them. Charles also had a very different look on his face than the smile he had had around Jean. His eyes were narrowed in a serious, critical gaze at the session. He has also traded his teaching attire for a black suit with grey gloves, and grey military styled boots.

"How is the new recruit?" Cypher asked.

"Unpacked, Sage is currently instructing her," Charles said.

"You mean distracting her?"

"Of course not...well I suppose it is partly what she's doing," Charles corrected himself. "Sage will be a good mentor for her, when I'm unavailable, as I am now."

"You intend to take them, Iceman isn't ready, the term Icenoob would be more appropriate," Cypher said.

"Your expertise in language is showing, you might want to introduce yourself to the girl, she's very bright, I have faith she'll make a valuable addition to the team," Charles explained. "Danger, please stop the session!"

 **"Yes professor!"**

The room stopped, slowly, the panels and obstacles slid back into their previous places. After a few seconds of shifting, the room was bare and still again. Each of the young boy's, heard a voice in their heads, the voice of their mentor Charles Xavier.

 **"Report to the Blackbird."**

Collectively they removed their cowls. Underneath the mask and visor of Cyclops was Scott, underneath Iceman's was Bobby, Hank was Beast and Warren was Angel. When the Danger room's doors opened, the four youths pushed the X's on their belts. Slowly the X's faded, and the structure and colours of their uniforms shifted. Hank's suit changed, giving it the appearance of blue trousers and a red top. Scott's changed to a blue, black and yellow the colour, the black dominant in his sleeves. Bobby's changed to a white, blue and black colour, and Warren's changed to a red and white.

They came to a circular room, where spare yellow and black uniforms had been displayed, there were also yellow and blue variants, as well as a versions of Charles's outfit that had yellow gloves and boots. But the boys focused on the additions to their 'undercover' outfits, jackets. Cyclops put on a dark blue jacket and a cap, Hank put on a red one with a pair of sneakers, Bobby picked up a blue jacket, and Warren covered his wings with a longer red coat. After changing they walked into the next room, which was much bigger than the last.

It had to be, in order to store the massive aircraft, the Blackbird. Based on the SR-71, the XR-71 was the faster and much more advanced version of the stealth plane. Charles was already inside, his chair locked into the pilot's station. Each of the teens sat on the crew seats and strapped in. Charles began flipping some of the switches, putting the plane through its launch secrets. The afterburners hummed, slowly building up heat. Only Bobby seemed uncomfortable, taking a few deep breaths.

"I assure you Bobby the Blackbird is incredibly safe, when the WDRO operated these, there were only six crashes out of two hundred deployments," Hank explained.

"Somehow I don't think that makes him feel any better," Warren commented.

Bobby let out a yelp as the plane moved, lunging forward. The afterburners left a trail of fire behind them, rapidly moving the plane down the runway. Bobby looked at the path ahead, screaming at the dead end. But then, the walls split apart, and the Blackbird flew out of the cliff behind the mansion. Charles took the Blackbird up higher, going beyond the clouds. He banked to the right, changing the direction of the plane.

"All right X-men, Cerebro picked up three new mutant signatures in New York, remember your first contact training. Scott and Warren, you'll both be going to a night club in Brooklyn, there are two new mutants there, Alison Blaire a projection mutation, and Todd Tolansky a physical mutation. I'll be going to another club in New York, where one Emma Carols works, she also bears a projection mutation," Charles explained.

"What about Bobby and me?" Hank asked.

"You'll be dealing with our unconfirmed mutation, should be easy, he attends ESU, his name is Gary Stewarts,"

Next Chapter 3: Cursed

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

I based the look of the Danger Room on the old style of the comics, back in the days the X-men were first being published, their costumes are also unstable molecule based, on the field they have masks and look like the first X-men costumes, minus the yellow 'overpants' as I call them. Another difference is Cypher, his mutation does include an ability to understand all languages, but its also based on the fact that his mutation also makes him part computer.

Mutation in this universe also works quite differently. It has low survival rates and at the forefront of most actions performed against them, is the severe danger of their powers. The kind of villains the X-men will face in this universe, the legitimate threats, wont be motivated simply by hate or prejudice. They have a very understandable reason for wanting to imprison a mutant, it has been proven that mutants have killed people before.

So it isn't a clear cut fight for their human rights, but a moral dilemma, what is the best way to respond to and deal with mutations that can kill massive amounts of people. That's something I hope to make clear in my X-men centric chapters, including the next one.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 3: Cursed

Twelve years ago, Curt Conners was taking part in some of the greatest work of his life, at least the work he most enjoyed. Before his arthritis began to completely affect his work, he could crawl into vents, run with his colleagues, and work on the smallest details of the machines he built. He looked over genetic data through a microscope, watching in awe as cells bonded with one another. Beside him, with an equally as large smile on his face, was Richard Parker. The brown haired man had a way about him, an infectious confidence, he wasn't from some famous background, just a smart everyman.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked Curt.

"I think we've got the bonding part down, the only question is how much the subjects bonds with the foreign DNA? We should be able to move onto trials soon, if the funding isn't cut again," Curt explained, rolling his eyes slightly at what had become a common occurrence in the project.

Everything in the lab had the Oscorp logo on it, the O and S both emboldened. Norman Osborn run a business, which was slowly losing contracts to companies like Stark Industries and Trask robotics. There had been layoffs and divergence of funds, but the goal was always the same. Stark emphasised better technology, Trask created autonomous machines, both basing their products and profits on the ideal of making life better for humanity. Oscorp on the other hand, was the leading source of bio-engineering, making humanity itself better.

"At least we're still working, we've made some progress, cross species genetics was the stuff of science fiction, at our current progress we'll have the ideal cures for some of the imperfections humanity suffers from," Richard explained.

"The regeneration of cells, immunity to viruses," Curt's voice drifted, as if he was slipping into a dream.

It was his dream, an ever shrinking dream, as when they first started their lab had been bigger. Richard's smile grew bigger when two other men walked into the room, one carrying two pizza boxes. One of the men had brown hair and wore a professional business suit. In contrast, his partner wore a brown jacket and baggy trousers, grinning as he turned to face the scientists.

"Pizza time," Slade Reilly said, planting the pizzas on one of the desks.

"Careful, you'll get my notes dirty," Curt said.

"Sorry man, half double pepperoni and paprika chicken for you two, barbecue beef for us Arthur," Slade handed Richard their pizza and rubbed his hands together as he opened his box.

He took in the scent of the pizza and gushed in pleasure.

"So how is the perimeter?" Richard asked, picking up a slice and biting it.

"As expected when you're on the tenth floor of a thirty story building, and you're the project with the least funding," the man in the suit said, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall.

"It sounds like you don't want to be here Agent Caster," Curt said, smirking slightly as Arthur huffed.

"Are you kidding? This is the best assignment we've had, I get to spend more time with my kids, speaking of how's yours' Richard?" Slade asked.

"Staying with my brother and his wife in Queens, he's getting smarter every day, another twenty years and he'll be leading his own projects," Richard said.

"Maybe he'll be the new generations' Tony Stark, Parker Industries anyone?" most of the room groaned at Slade's statement.

Despite this Slade still grinned, taking another slice to eat. At that moment both his phone and Arthur's rang. They both picked them up, identified themselves, collectively nodded before hanging up.

"We need to go, keep up the good work you two, and persevere," Arthur said, putting on his own smile as he left the room.

"Remember Richard, Parker Industries, it could happen," Slade picked up the pizza box, still grinning as Richard waved off the idea.

"Forget it man, we Parkers are friendly neighbourhood men, we look after the little guy," he said.

Twelve years later, and it was as if Curt was looking at Slade's image again.

His son, Sven Reilly, even wore the same old jacket. The young man wasn't as muscular as his father was, but showed he was on the road to getting there. His eyes were a grey colour, instead of Slade's blue, and his chin was a bit smaller. Other than that it was easy to see he was the WDRA 'consultant's' son. He even had that same friendly and care free smile.

"I'm sorry to suddenly turn up like this, I can come back another time if you'd like," his smile only faded when he saw how flustered Curt seemed.

"No it's all right, please stay, what is it about my work with Oscorp you wanted to know?" Curt asked.

"My dad was a security consultant."

"I know that Sven, I liked your father, after he transferred his replacements were unbearable, how is he?"

"He's been dead ten years now," Sven said.

"Oh...I am so sorry," Curt said, shaking his head out of guilt

"It's okay, I'm looking into some of the work he did, just trying to understand what he did better you know?"

"Yes, please have a seat," Curt sat on his own bench, across from Sven, who sat and leant forward, fingers together in anticipation.

He started with the basics of how he first met Slade Reilly. Oscorp did some work with the world disaster response agency, the government agency contracted the company for several years, on several projects. With Oscorp, they began focusing on their cross-species genetics program. As well as a scientific liaison, by the name of June Covington, the agency also provided security consultants. Slade Reilly and his partner Arthur Caster were those two consultants.

"Norman saw Covington more than we did, but your father and his partner basically protected us, it was a dull assignment, especially considering we started suffering cut backs," Curt explained.

Sven nodded his head in understanding, already having done some research into Oscorp. Their focus nowadays was on electronics, though the OzPad was criticised as a more expensive rip off.

"What were you working on then?" Sven asked.

"Cross species genetics, mixing human and animal DNA," Curt said, elaborating when Sven seemed confused.

Curt told him about the WDRA's intent with the project. They wanted more affective disaster operatives, people who could see better, pick up scents and had better stamina to work more. For that part of the project their focus had been bats and dogs. The director of the agency however, wasn't against Curt and Richard's interest of the medical applications. Different species of animals had abilities, such as cellular regeneration, immunity to certain toxins and diseases. When applied to a human, they would seem almost superhuman. But the intention, at least Curt's, hadn't been to make super soldiers.

"The project gradually shrunk before being abandoned completely, Oscorp's interests changed, that's all. Stark and Trask were so successful because they focused on technology, Osborn believed that the future of the company was in Bio-tech, that's technology and body enhancement combined, faster jets that'll make pilots themselves faster," Curt explained.

He used only a rough example, he had heard some things, but never got to see exactly what Norman had planned.

"Richard and I left the company soon after our project was shut down, we had parted company with Slade and Arthur well before that."

"Did my dad ever find trouble there?" Sven asked.

"What do you mean?" Curt inquired.

"I mean was there ever a commotion when my dad was working?"

Curt put a hand to his chin, thinking long and hard about it. He looked back through what he could remember, and recalled one incident.

"Just before he transferred, your father implied that Norman and Covington were having an affair," Curt said.

"Is that it?" Sven's expression was flat, disappointed, as if expecting something more.

"I wish I could tell you more, but it came out of the blue, no one in the lab saw enough of Norman and Covington together to even get a hint if Slade's accusation was true," Curt explained.

"I see, what became of the project?" Sven asked.

"The cataclysm, then the recession, there was just too much money being put into it, Osborn couldn't afford to keep funding a project that wasn't producing commercial results, so as is common it was shut down. Parker and I carried it on until his tragic death a few years ago."

"I read about that too, a plane crash right?"

Curt nodded his head, hesitantly, he chose not to voice his doubts to Sven. But then he saw Sven's eyes slightly narrow, it was a tell that Slade had to. He noticed the consultant look at Covington that way once. It showed his suspicion, he suspected Curt of knowing more than he let on. Curt thanked the students entering the room, he didn't want to talk to the young man anymore. Any smile he could put on wavered when he saw who one of the students was.

"Hi Dr Conners," Peter Parker said.

Peter Parker, son of Curt's friend and partner, Harry Osborn, son of the man who founded their project. Like Sven had been for Slade, Harry and Peter took more after their fathers than mothers.

"Hello Peter, I'm sorry Mr Reilly, but I have students to see to," Curt said.

"That's okay, it was good to meet you," Sven smiled again, that smile so like Slade's.

He nodded at Peter's group as he walked out of the lab.

"Who was that?" Mary Jane asked.

"A son of an old friend," Curt told the truth in that regard, there was no need to go into greater detail. "How have you all been? Has Warren been arrested yet?"

"Unfortunately not, he gave me the creeps," Harry said.

Curt nodded his head in agreement, glad he could talk about something else besides the past. For him the past was a curse he wanted to cast aside. He prayed Sven would not get involved, but more he prayed for Richard Parker's son.

* * *

Brooklyn

Scott and Warren had managed to get into Brooklyn under the radar. A few looks were thrown Scott's way, because of his visor. He stopped caring about it though a long time ago, looking through the red visor. Before his eyes became generators of intense energy, he had been colour blind, now all he saw was red, not exactly a change from grey. The club was preparing for the night ahead, the doors were open and Scott could see people getting the stage ready. Warren took note of a poster on the door.

'Dazzler' it read, showing a blonde haired woman in a silver disco garb, with blue ink around her eyes. Their sparkles on the poster, as well as warnings for people who suffered from epilepsy, the show would have bright lights for the duration. Apparently Dazzler would be singing throughout the night, covers such as Katy Perry's Firework, a few Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga songs too. So far Warren had never heard of the Dazzler, but her name fit her looks, she certainly dazzled him. But he frowned slightly, more at himself, feeling the wings push against his coat.

"Miss Blaire and Tolansky both work here, let's ask around," Scott said.

"We don't have badges Scott, that isn't exactly wise," Warren rebuffed him.

"Warren they're around our age, let's just pretend we're their friends or something, come on."

"This isn't going to work," Warren shook his head as Scott frowned.

Warren started at the bar, putting on one of his friendly smiles, the kind his father encouraged for business interactions. Not that there was a chance of him ever going into business, but the lessons were valuable. When he asked about Tolansky, he noticed the man's body stiffen up. An exasperated expression then crossed his face as he asked Warren a question.

"What has he done now?" there was some concern, but mostly exhaustion in his voice.

So Todd Tolansky was someone who either got into trouble alot, or attracted trouble. Warren guessed it was the former, comparing the bartender's expression to the kind Charles wore. Bobby caused the most trouble in school, and in Westchester, and he hadn't even been there for very long. Hank had his moments, though Charles often found his antics amusing. Scott was the perfect student, Warren on the other hand. He'd witnessed the bartenders expression from both his father, and Charles himself.

"He isn't in any trouble, at least I hope not, he hasn't caused trouble recently has he?" Warren asked the man, trying to imply he knew Todd more than he did.

"Police keep an eye on him, he only recently got out of Juvenile hall. He has to wear a tracking bracelet on his heel now, he hasn't been able to come to work," the man explained.

"That's too bad, was he at least alright at work?" the winged mutant hope to get more into Todd's character, Xavier had a habit of seeing the best in people.

"Todd's a decent kid, he just wants to belong you know, a little difficult considering his condition, is that how you know him?"

The bartender indicated the hump on Warren's back, where his wings were. Even with a trench coat, he wasn't able to completely hide his wings. So, out of necessity, he pretended to have a hump on his back. Similarly, Scott pretended he had an eye condition, that too much exposure to light could blind him. He spotted Scott walking away from a blonde haired girl, holding a piece of paper.

"Yeah, it isn't easy, people seeing you, but not actually seeing you, if you know what I mean," Warren muttered, half focusing between the man and Scott.

His fellow X-man tilted his head a few times, ushering Warren to finish.

"I know, Brooklyn's pretty bad, the neighbourhood isn't what it used to be, even those who should understand what it's like to be judged for their appearance, can judge others," the man was Latino-American, most likely the son of immigrants.

But there was some clear understanding in his voice and eyes, as if he had seen a lot on the streets lately. That was probably one of the reasons for tonight. Thanking the man, Warren returned to Scott.

"Got her number," Scott said.

"Who Alison's?" Warren asked.

"No, I asked that girl there, she just gave me her number and told me to come back tonight, asked for my name too," Scott nervously tilting his cap down, trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

"You didn't give it to her did you?"

"I just said my name was Scott, I asked her about Blaire and Tolansky, she gave me Todd's address and said that Alison was going to be here tonight," Scott explained.

"We should be prioritising Alison, she has the projection mutation," Warren said, keeping his voice as low as a whisper.

They left the club and began making their way to the apartment complex Todd lived in.

"A physical mutation can be just as destructive as a projection one Warren," Scott said as they continued their search.

* * *

ESU

Seeing Conners again had been good, everyone always liked him more than Miles Warren. Peter was glad to be learning under Conners again, with the option of being a lab assistant. He hoped that would be the case and that his work off campus wouldn't get in the way of that. Mary Jane and Harry gave him some encouragement to introduce himself to some of the other students. He bored them by saying he would go to the library and then unpack and rest at home, their new home for the next year.

"Your loss Pete, we'll be back later to drag you to the club if we have to," MJ grinned as they separated.

Peter waved goodbye and began a walk off campus. Once he was far enough away, he discretely found an alleyway. It was a process he had practiced since he was fifteen, when he was sure the coast was clear he changed. Peter was a book worm, people dismissed him as such. He didn't take part in sports, and he didn't change at the gym. Taking off his long sleeved shirt, he revealed he wasn't as slim as people thought, his arms and chest bore muscles he wore the shirt to hide. He zipped open his bag as he pulled his trousers down, taking out one pair of clothes and placing in another.

He unravelled the suit he had made, which had been a frustrating, two year process. Jumping into it, his legs fit perfectly into the tight blue trousers, his feet making contact with the red soles at the bottom of it. He pulled the front of the suit towards him and slipped in his arms. Then he zipped up the back and flexed his arms. He slipped on a pair of red gloves with blue palms and fingers, and attached the wrist devices to them. Finally he covered his face with the red mask. Zipping up his bag, he threw it against the wall, pushing the button on his palm, and releasing from his wrist a white thread, that bound the bag to the wall.

A few seconds passed, and with a great yell of 'woo', the appropriately dubbed 'Spider-man' leapt out of the alleyway. He flipped in midair, giving passersby a view they were familiar with. His suit was blue at the bottom, with red on the soles and around the edges of his feet. Around the sides of his waist was a red stripe, with small utility pockets. As he swung across the city, he seemlessly ejected the cartridge on one of his web shooters, and took from his pocket a replacement clip. He swung and released his web line, bending his knees and arms, showing the black spider symbol on his top. The top of the costume was entirely red, save for the blue on his sides and abs. Across the red were numerous black web markings.

The suit itself was tight, exposing Peter's wrists, and conveying the muscles he hid with his baggy clothes. He was no giant, but no one could doubt that he was the perfect build to be considered agile and strong. The material had to be tight, as through the thin fabric, tiny, almost microscopic fibres across his body allowed him to stick to the walls. He landed on a wall with his back, and seamlessly rolled onto his feet, and launched himself from the building. If one took a scope and looked at these fibres across Peter's body, they would find them eerily similar to the tips of a spider's legs.

As the air rushed through his face, and the honks of horns and tracks of trains invaded his ears, Peter's mask reacted to the changes of his senses. It was red and covered with the same black web design the top of the suit had. His eyes were covered by a pair of white lenses with black around the edges of them. They were wide lenses, shaped and made so that it would seem impossible, for anyone without Peter's senses to see out of them. A long time ago he had worn glasses, but a spider bite made gave him better eyesight, and the strength and speed of that spider as well.

He was mild mannered, book worm and science nerd Peter Parker, but he was also the friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.

A hero Gary Stewarts looked up at in awe. He watched the hero leave the street, before going into his apartment complex. When he got to his apartment, Gary threw his bag onto the sofa and took out his phone. He'd gotten a picture from Liz, telling him she'd brought a new outfit for the Dazzler performance tonight. The young man couldn't wait, in the mean time he pulled off his shirt and went to his bathroom to shower. As he did so, he felt that pain across his stomach again.

Only this time it was much worse.

Stepping out of the shower, Gary gripped his sides, gritting his teeth together as he went to his mirror. He took out some aspirin and put two down his throat. Gary took a few deep breaths, letting the pain fade just slightly, the aspirin would take time, but he could bear it for now. But then he gripped his throat, feeling as if he was about to vomit. Only it wasn't vomit that gushed out of his mouth, but a black substance, it resembled a jellyfish as it floated inside the sink, inside it Gary could see the pills he had taken.

He shook his head in denial, looking at the jelly fish like creature as it oozed down the sink. Looking at himself in the mirror, he recoiled in shock, seeing something bulge on his cheek. It faded, but the damage was done. When his bell rang, he yelped in shock. His heart was pounding as he approached the door. He looked through the viewing hole, seeing a tan skinned woman in a flower dress.

"Mr Stewart's," her voice was filled with compassion, understanding. "I know about your predicament, the organisation I'm part of can help you."

* * *

Support groups for mutants and 'enhanced' individuals were hard to find. Government sponsored ones always had an agenda, a desire to use the abilities of those they supported. They made gilded cages for the enhanced individuals they found. Hank Pym however was not a government agent, not anymore, he wanted to make that clear to the people visiting his lab, in upstate New York. A brilliant scientist aged forty-one, Pym was still in his lab gear when he walked into reception.

"Thank you Piers, I'll take it from here," he told the receptionist.

The Trovaya foundation building as small, and Pym ran it with a small staff he was familiar with. He also knew the two men waiting to meet him, both consultants with the world disaster response organisation. Felix Blake at least seemed reasonable, not someone Hank liked or disliked, just a man doing his job. Mitchell Carson was someone Pym didn't like, people called him by the book, Hank preferred 'rude, controlling, and an outright asshole'.

"You're late," Carson said.

"Helping people isn't an exact science Carson, I don't do deadlines, I get the job done however long it takes," Pym explained.

"You know proper funding could help," Blake suggested, though sounding uninterested.

"You know my answer," Hank retorted.

"I've got orders to make the offer at least," the man shrugged.

"Carter knows where I stand now, anyway, here's the report on the conditions of the members of my support group, as you know as their doctor I'm not required to provide their names. With the exception of your colonel Danvers, she's making very good progress, she can leave whenever she wants," Hank explained.

He turned to leave, only for Mitchell to grab his shoulder. Blake shook his head, clearly not impressed with Mitchell's actions.

"You know you can't keep this up forever Pym, running this place from patents and charity donations? It won't last, you've got the most powerful weapons in the world here Pym, weapons that can make the world a better place," Carson explained.

Pym brushed Carson's hand aside and turned to face him, a snide smile on his face.

"They aren't weapons Agent Carson, they're people, but maybe you're right, maybe one day they will make the world a better place. Which is why so long as I live, I will never allow you or your employers to control them, for as long as I live," Hank emphasised his point again, standing unyielding and proud.

Carson mimicked Hank's snide smile.

"If only you had protected Maria with such ferocity," he said.

Hank took a deep breath, before slamming his head into Carson's nose.

"Fuck!" the man growled as he fell back.

Blood was coming out of his nostrils, he had felt the nose break.

"Talk about my wife again, and I will show you what ferocity really looks like," Hank said.

Blake helped his fellow agent up, giving him no sympathy.

"See you next week Hank, come on asshole," he said.

"I'll sue him," Carson snarled.

"And I'll report you for conduct unbecoming, talking about the man's wife," Blake shook his head as they walked away.

When the doors slid shut behind them, Hank walked back to the elevator and returned to his lab. It was there where his assistant Raz was looking over lab results with the scope.

"Any changes while I was away Ultron?" Hank asked the building's AI.

 **"Colonel Danvers is fully charged, Mr Willis and Astro have acclimatised to their containment suits, and Raz is looking over Miss Jones's scan results,"** the robotic, but reassuring voice explained.

"What's the prognosis Raz, is it as we thought?" Hank asked.

The Hispanic man raised his head, nodding it, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep himself from crying.

"I've confirmed that the radiation Angelica produces isn't harmful to other people Hank, it has already harmed here," Raz got up, allowing Hank to see the results for himself.

Angelica Jones couldn't use a hospital's standard MRI, but Hank used his creation 'Pym particles' to carry out tests with drones capable of scanning at the cellular level. When Angelica Jones's projection mutation awakened, she was fortunate not to have harmed anyone. That didn't mean she was one of the lucky mutants though. She had been with the support group for some, since she was thirteen. When changing out of her containment suit one day, she noticed a mole on her left breast.

"I'll tell her," Hank rubbed the back of his head as he walked towards Angelica's room.

She was dressed in her containment suit, a yellow outfit with red lines across the sides and her arms. The girl was reading a magazine, listening to music, but that stopped when Hank walked in. He sat across from her, and as gently as he could told her about the scan results. There was a small group of people that called mutation a gift.

Angelica's gift, as well as being able to produce heat, was infertility, and cancer!

Next Chapter 4: Team up

* * *

Originally I was going to have something quite destructive happen, as well as shocking in the form of Tolansky's mutation. But that'll happen next chapter, because when planning to introduce Hank Pym's support group I thought of Angelica Jones's/Firestar's history and what her powers had done to her.

Having lost relatives to Cancer, I understand how tragic it can be. Whilst not as flashy or destructive as half a street being ruined, it is still devastating. In terms of the Marvel Universe it is another reason why you wouldn't actually want to be a mutant.

Other ideas, Cyclops being colour blind, he basically is in the comics, only they establish he can see colour when he doesn't have his powers. I thought it would be an interesting addition to his character.

Spider-man: finally I introduce everyone's favourite wall crawler. The idea behind his suit is that he had an outfit reminiscent of his first outfits seen in the films, when he was starting out at fifteen. Since he's eighteen he's had some time to perfect his routine as Spider-man (though it can still be a struggle) and utilise his own scientific mind to make a suit to help him fight crime. His ability to stick to walls is basically because his limbs are in a sense spider legs, so I figured that fabric would have to be quite thin in order for him to effectively stick to the wall, which is why his costume doesn't have boots. The tight costume was also a way to divide between Peter Parker and Spider-man, Peter was a book worm, a nerd, the skinny kid, he already has that reputation which is why he wears such baggy clothing.

Hank Pym: I'll establish that he has been Ant-man, he's somewhat inspired by Michael Douglas's/the Cinematic universe version of the character, but much younger and able to step back into the role of Ant-man again. Though Janet Van Dyne is still alive in this universe, and he isn't Hank's wife (yet), Hank was married however, to his original wife from the comics, whom he named his foundation after.

Next time, the heroes finally meet, Spidey teams up with the X-men, and Sven and Gary continue their Journey into Mystery.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 4: Team up

Loeb's, a 'neutral ground' where underground, and even criminal elements met. There were strict rules to going into Loeb's, all weapons were to be removed, and you couldn't go in with a phone or a pen. Peggy had to leave her handbag and pistol with the restaurant greeter. Not just anyone could attend Loeb's hotel, it was a very exclusive membership. Peggy recalled the beginning of Loeb's, starting off as simple safe houses before evolving into the massive hotel chain it had become today. It catered to government agents, crime families, event terrorist organisations and mutants who could be considered rich, celebrities that wanted to keep their mutant status secret.

"Your Risotto Mrs Kardashian-West," Peggy heard one of the waiters as she passed a table.

The atmosphere and scenery of Loeb's was of a five star quality, finely decorated walls, spotless wood chairs and tables and a fine carpet. In the background, musicians played a soft orchestral tune. Peggy walked over to the round table marked 13, her table. She waited a few minutes, eyes scanning her surroundings. People were eating with one another, others discussing business. At each end of the room stood identical brown haired men, all of them in matching brown business suits, with green shirts and pale yellow ties on.

'Exits,' Peggy counted only one exit, the way she came in.

She looked up, seeing the observation room of the restaurant. It had a gold screen on it, thin enough for the shadow of the 'manager' to be seen. He was standing close to the wall, and Peggy didn't doubt he was watching her. The waiter came over with the glasses and wine, pouring Peggy's out for her. After a few more minutes the people Peggy had been waiting for came in. Justine Hammer was a beautiful red haired woman, twenty nine years old and already running Hammer industries. Her father Justin handed her the company, after her older brother Justin Junior proved incompetent. She kept the company going, but it was no Stark industries.

Norman Osborn on the other hand was a close second to Tony. The man had a unique hair style that Peggy often struggled to describe, he stood perfectly calm in his green business suit. They sat down and ordered food, going through the usual process of greeting one another and asking how they were. Peggy said nothing about her family, Norman on the other hand told them that his son was just entering college. Justine remained silent however, simply eating her food. When they had finished, they got down to business.

"Tony Stark is withdrawing his support of the agency," Peggy said.

"It should come as no surprise," Norman huffed.

"I know it isn't a surprise, it does however push us back, Stark had resources that your companies don't."

"You mean we don't have him do you Carter?" Justine asked.

"We don't need him," Norman said.

"You are a good scientist Norman, I consider myself good too, but Stark is something different, he's an inventor."

"Justine's right, your minds just don't work the same as his does, true Stark is a loss, but even more so is the loss of his arc reactor, the infinite power source that he intends to just give away," Peggy explained.

"I thought the WDRA would want the world's energy crisis to be solved," Norman said.

"No thank you, I mean yes," Peggy brushed the waiter off, refusing more wine. "Stark Industries will retain total control of distribution of arc reactors. He will run background checks on everyone he supplies to, so we cannot purchase them on bulk through a shell company of a proxy."

"What exactly are you trying to power though Carter?" Justine asked.

"Trask's machines, they have limited operating time, he tells me that can be fixed but we don't have time to wait around on him. There is also the matter of the factory, Stark made a huge arc reactor that powers his own factory, we need that, it is the only way we'll be able to produce them at a faster rate than what Trask is doing," Peggy explained.

"If this is what we're here to discuss, then I'm leaving, Waiter!" Norman called out to the young man.

"Where are you going?" Peggy asked.

"Do you have any idea the shit storm you'll form when people find out that you are designing machines to police a percentage of the population. As dangerous as mutants are, Trask's Sentinel idea is a PR disaster waiting to happen. This isn't some comic book world Carter, where the majority of people will say 'yes, kill all the mutants'," Norman explained, giving the waiter his credit card.

"Mutants are dangerous, and we aren't creating the Sentinels to kill them," Peggy said.

"Oh what is it protect them? They are gigantic robots Carter, you do not make those to protect people, you make them to kill people, contact my office when you want to discuss real business."

The man thanked the waiter before walking out of the restaurant. Justine waited until the man left, before she leant across the table and whispered to Peggy.

"I think I know how to solve your little problem," she said.

* * *

Colonel James Rhodes was a man of the military, when he had orders he followed them. But he didn't have to like everything he was told to do in the military. So it felt awkward to him, to be ordered to speak to his friend Anthony Stark. Tony Stark, one of the richest and smartest men in the world. The man who James at first had to babysit, as liaison between Stark Industries and the ministry of defence, only to befriend. James knew what Tony was capable of, even if everyone else dismissed him.

Not many people really understood Tony Stark, at least not the Tony Stark who had come back from the Middle East. Rhodes did however, he knew what had happened to Tony, and he had seen its results. Tony went to the desert to demonstrate weapons for military buyers, when escorted back his truck was attacked. The soldiers escorting him were executed, he was captured and held by an organisation that wanted him to build weapons. He built something, but it wasn't a weapon they could use. Tony escaped, killing a lot of people for the first time in his life, and spent days in the desert. Until James found him, Tony had spent months imprisoned by that organisation. He had been back in the world for a few months, and so far he hadn't gone back to his old ways of partying and womanising. Tony had also been making things miserable for Peggy Carter, a woman he used to respect.

"Remember why we're here Colonel Rhodes," the agent next to him said.

"I know why I'm here Agent May, for my friend," Rhodes retorted.

Melinda May was a WDRA agent, an Asian American woman who typically wore leather jackets. She had a very 'no nonsense' look on her face, and a strong, flexible body that gave away her status as a fighter.

"I know Mr Stark has been through a lot, but he may be endangering the agency," said the other agent accompanying Rhodes.

"Don't worry Coulson, Tony's a decent guy."

May scoffed, a sentiment Phil Coulson didn't share. He was a reasonable man, and an unassuming looking man too, not overly tall, not strong looking. But he was a very decent man.

"Why would Stark be here of all places?" May asked.

"It certainly isn't where I expect him to be," Rhodes muttered.

Instead of tracking Tony to a expensive, five star hotel or restaurant, reports indicated that he was at a cheaper place. It was in downtown Manhattan, not very well known, and it had a generic name that didn't make it easy to find or really remember. The trio entered the bar, no one was there, save for the bar tender and a single customer sitting at the table. But that wasn't Tony, this man was wearing a cheap leather jacket and dark clothing, Tony typically stood out with his , his hair wasn't long and unkempt as Tony's had let it become. It wasn't Tony's typical style either, the bangs hung over his eyes, Tony typically gelled his coif upwards.

"Well, he isn't here," May said.

"I'm right here," the customer raised his hand.

He turned, revealing no shaved stubble, but no goatee, not what people expected of Tony Stark at all.

"Well if it isn't the cavalry and Agent high hopes, why did you bring them Rhodey?" Tony asked, his voice a grumpy mumble.

"Tony, what have you done to yourself?" Rhodey asked.

"You were expecting me to go back to the old look weren't you? Not sorry to disappoint," Tony grinned as he tilted the contents of his glass down his throat.

Scotch on the rocks, and he drank it without hesitation.

"I would have thought you'd stop drinking at least," Rhodey muttered.

"I don't feel like being sober much anymore, another," Tony raised his glass.

"Forget it," May said, showing the bartender her badge.

Tony shook his head, reaching into his jacket and taking out a hip flask. He undid the flask and raised it to his mouth. Rhodey suddenly grabbed Tony's wrist, keeping him from drinking.

"Enough Tony," he said.

"What do you want colonel?" Tony asked.

"As your friend I'm worried about you, as a colonel in the United States Air Force, I'm worried about where your company is going. Do you know how many people you have saved with the weapons you've developed?" Rhodey asked.

"As many as have died because of them, breaking even isn't a good thing in this case," Tony snatched his flask away and raised it to his mouth again.

Suddenly, May brought her leg up, kicking the flask out of Tony's grip and across the room.

"Cut the bullshit Stark, what are you going to do with the company now?" she asked.

"Honestly, the truth about me is, I don't actually think that far ahead," Tony said.

"You're a futurist Tony, you must know that there are going to be consequences of the agency not having those weapons, that we're going to turn to other people to fill the gap," Phil explained.

"And I thought you were smarter than that Coulson, the agency has been filling its ranks of thinkers without me, they had multiple contracts with multiple companies and private contractors too. The agency is not suffering because of me not being a part of it, now if you excuse me, futurist," Tony scoffed, half chuckling as he took a sip from his flask.

Rhodey took a seat in front of Tony, the stern expression replaced by the kind a friend would wear.

"I want a moment with him, alone," he said.

Phil nodded his head, leading the less amiable May aside. Once they were out of earshot, Rhodey raised his finger, asked for a beer, took off his medal laden jacket and chatted with Tony. They began with where Tony was staying.

"Rundown motel room, sold the penthouse suite."

"Which one?" Rhodes asked, chuckling.

"All of them, what do I need with the fancy living?"

"Tony, what happened out there in the desert?"

For a second, Tony's hand shook and he was taken back. Taken back to a dark cavern, then the blistering heat, then the suffocating feeling of being pushed underwater. He moved his flask in a circular motion, hearing the sloshing whiskey and imagining the buckets of blood. They were buckets of blood he had seen, filled as an example of what his life's work, what his family's legacy was. Rhodey let go of his beer as Tony put a hand on his chest. The colonel was close to getting off of his chair, and it made Tony smile.

"Are you going to at least call her?"

Again Tony shook his head and laugh.

"Truthfully I don't think that far ahead," he said.

"Bullshit Tony, you're the futurist."

"That's the real bullshit Rhodey, that I plan for the future. I was the man selling weapons, making money off of little wars we fought. I was the man making arc reactors, but never trying to turn renewable energy into a thing. The man people would have called president, but never getting involved with politics, at least not in any way that counted," Tony explained.

"Which is what most of the politicians do," Rhodey pointed out.

"Point that, here's mine Rhodey, don't worry about me," he looked his friend in the eyes. "I'm not dying, but I am slowing down, because not only can I not live the way I used to...I don't **want** to live the way I used to!"

"You don't want to go back to that Tony, the fast cars, the hot women?"

"Rhodey, I'm not going to be the person people expect me to be."

For once in a long time, James Rhodes saw seriousness in the eyes of Tony Stark. This was a man, whom though still struggled with personal demons, knew what he was going to do with his life. He nodded his head, took his jacket, patted Tony on the shoulder and began walking out.

"So what now?" May asked.

"We're leaving, the man we're looking for isn't here, he died in the desert," Tony overhead the hint of bitterness in his best friend's voice.

He looked at the flask, fighting the urge to take another swig. The urge won.

* * *

Ravencroft institute for the criminally insane. It had no imposing metal gate or gothic architecture. The front desk was much like a hospital reception, without the masses of people waiting for a doctor. Sven wasn't the only visitor, family, colleagues and friends, the standard expected of a hospital. Patients/innmates there were prisoners, but they were prisoners undergoing treatment, at least that's what was said in papers. Before beginning his investigation, Sven heard that someone at Ravencroft blew the whistle on abuse and corruption there. There was a documentary that Sven briefly watched, before forgoing the acquirement of knowledge, and playing Destiny online.

'Probably should have done more research,' hindsight crept into Sven's thoughts.

He signed in under a false name, gave a phoney story about being a distant cousin. Then he went into the guarded visiting area. The video cameras were turned off, which Sven found odd. On the walk to his visiting table, he saw a pair that were mother and daughter. They shared certain facial features that were similar, and matching blonde hair.

"Doctor Kafka told me she found a picture of him in your room Felicia, you were brought here to get better," the woman said.

"I was brought here because I'm inconvenient to you mother, why settle for normal when I can have amazing," the girl, Felicia said.

"Where did you hide that picture anyway?" her mother asked.

Sven heard the first part, then blushed and blocked the rest of the private conversation out. He was thankful that the man he was visiting was brought out next. The man was in his late thirties, brown haired and he had a pleasant smile on his face. It was one Sven tried to match, standing and offering the man his hand. The man had a tight grip despite his nice demeanour.

"Steven Grant, nice to meet you," he said.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for Marc Spector," Sven said.

"Ah, Marc Spector, that's too bad," the man 'Steven' shook his head.

"I'm a little confused, I'm Sven Reilly, you knew my dad Slade."

"Slade, Slade, I knew a Wade once, not a Reilly but a Wilson, nice guy, anyway no I can't say the name Slade Reilly rings any bells. You did some research about me before coming to meet me right?" Steven asked.

Sven reached for the notebook in his pocket, reading the small notes again.

 _Marc Spector, Ravencroft, Egypt case, reference Khonshu, important!_

"I knew you were here, and I know you used to be a marine before you became a mercenary," Sven said.

"No, that was Marc Spector," Steven said.

"Aren't you Marc Spector?" Sven asked.

"It is very complicated, what do you know about dissociative identity disorder?"

"I uh...watched the film Split," Sven lowered his head slightly.

"Loved that film, especially the twist at the end, can't wait for the sequel. That's kind of what I've got, sometimes known as split personality disorder or multiple personality disorder. The doctors tell me it plays tricks with my memories and recollection of events," Steven explained.

"Because they essentially happen to a different person?" Sven asked.

"Exactly, I remember penthouse parties, the life of a millionaire. Marc Spector's life however was that of a soldier and mercenary," Steven said.

"Did he ever do anything in Egypt?"

Steven frowned for a moment, turning away from Sven.

"Egypt, I know Marc nearly froze to death out there," he shook his head, dragging his nails against his stubble.

"In a desert?"

"At night the temperature can be extremely cold, almost subzero temperature, but obviously Marc survived because I'm here. I have no idea what happened out there, you'll have to ask him, tomorrow maybe, are you around tomorrow?" Steven asked.

Sven nodded his head, smiling as he stood up.

"Sorry to bother you," he said.

As Sven left he looked through his pockets for coins. There was a pay phone near the hospital, probably used by patients after release. Inserting a few quarters in, he looked through the notebook again, finding a number and then dialling it. He waited for a few minutes, waited and waited, his foot tapping somewhat impatiently against the floor.

 _"You have called the Xavier institute for the gifted, we apologise for being unable to take your call, please leave your name and contact details after the beep."_

 _Beep!_

Sven put the phone back on the hook, put the book in his pocket and began searching through the phone book. There was a Charles Xavier in Westchester, which matched with the name on the notebook. Memorisation wasn't Sven's best skill, he probably took after his father in that regard. He could recall however names of certain individuals. Charles Xavier, Tony Stark (easy to remember since he was famous) and Reed Richards were names that had been highlighted. Looking through the phone book again, he found the number for a Reed Richards, dispensed some quarters, and dialled in the number. Similarly he was faced with the same problem he had faced before, a long wait for nothing.

 _"Thank you for calling Baxter labs, we apologise but the foundation staff is currently involved in an overseas experiment. If you still need to contact us please, use my alternative contact number..."_

Quickly getting out his pen, Sven wrote down the number as the man on the answer machine relayed it. Cutting the call, he again put in quarters and dialled in the new number. The wait was a bit shorter this time, and it actually had a result.

"Reed Richards speaking, how may I help?" spoke the same polite toned voice from before.

Though Sven couldn't see Richards, he got the feeling he was a well educated man. He had this tone in his voice that gave away a good education. His accent wasn't rough, his grammar was good, but he spoke as if every response was carefully thought out.

"Mr Richards, my name is Sven Reilly, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Sven started off with the small talk, the ice hadn't been broken so he didn't want to rush into the conversation.

On the other hand he didn't want to waste the man's time either. The struggle between rushing and delaying the conversation, made Sven sound nervous and uneasy.

"You haven't interrupted anything young man, how can I help you?" Richards asked again, patience still in his voice.

"My dad was an agent for the WDRA, I've been following his career and your name was one that came up. I was curious about when he met you, and what exactly happened during that time. Was he a security consultant on one of your projects?" Sven inquired, waiting, but still tapping his foot impatiently as Reed thought over an answer.

"Reilly, Reilly," he repeated the name a few times, testing it and probing his brain for a memory.

"Slade Reilly," Sven said.

"I'm sorry Sven, but I can't say I've known your father. Until five years ago I was a college professor, and a researcher on theoretical sciences, I wasn't part of projects that the WDRA ran," Reed explained.

Sven rubbed his hair as he thought about what he had learnt. He wondered why Richards's name was in the book, when his father hadn't even met him?

"Thank you Mr Richards, sorry for disturbing you," he said.

"That's okay, I hope you have more success, those world disaster response agents are real heroes, your father must have been a great guy," Reed said.

He didn't come off as condescending, an honest man, that made Sven smile.

"Good luck with your project Mr Richards."

"Thank you Sven," both hang up.

Though it only raised more questions, the pleasant conversation made Sven happy. Even though it had been on the phone it hadn't been laced with the same tension and awkwardness his interview with Conners had. The teacher was hiding something, but unless the scientist was a really good liar, he wasn't hiding anything.

* * *

Warren and Scott followed the directions to Tolansky's apartment. He was supposed to be living there with his foster parents. Considering he couldn't go within a certain distance of his home, it was safe to say that he would be at home. When they got to the apartment however, they saw a police line. A few cops in riot gear were guiding people out of the building. One cop was on the mega phone, calling out to a specific window on the building.

"Tolansky, this is Captain George Stacy of the New York police department, we have the building surrounded, come out with your hands up," the man said.

He was wearing a bullet proof vest, standing tall, disciplined and unflinchingly stern. One could almost describe him as fearless.

"We should find out what's going on, we'll meet at the alleyway and then decide what to do," Scott explained.

"If we wait too long they might decide to just go on in and shoot him," Warren said.

"This might not be a case of police being overzealous, or shooting first Warren, Todd was already under house arrest, we need to confirm whether he's done something that warrants this."

"We're supposed to protect mutants," the winger X-men retorted.

"No, we're supposed to protect everyone," Scott said.

He walked away from Warren before he could argue. Warren turned away in frustration, joining a group of youths at the back of the crowd.

"I hear that Tolansky kid has lost it," one of the boys said.

"He certainly was weird before, but he's always been cowardly," said another.

Warren was tempted to ask a question. But decided against it, he knew asking too closely would raise too many questions against him. Scott however wasn't so cautious.

"What happened here?" he asked someone in the crowd.

"Trouble with the local delinquent," one resident said bitterly.

"Marc, Todd's a nice kid, a little strange but he's never harmed anyone," the man's wife scolded him.

Scott looked between the husband and wife, one with a negative opinion, the other sceptical.

"Surely the police have reason to be here, what's happened?" he asked.

"Todd's a mutant, I heard the Evans kid say that," the man said.

"Yet where is he?" his wife asked.

Scott stepped back a little bit, looking at the police perimeter, they were moving into the alleys adjacent to the building. He spotted Stacy giving orders to a man with a rifle, who ran across the street with a few other officers. Focusing on his training, Cyclops looked at the other buildings, specifically the windows and rooftops that had good vantage points of Tolansky's apartment. As he pictured Stacy's disastrous plan, Warren ran into the alleyway he was supposed to meet Scott in.

'Okay Scott, you want to waste time as they get ready to waste Tolansky? Fine, that may be how Cyclops and the X-men do it...' Warren though as he took off his trench coat, pulling out what he had hidden inside of it.

A homemade gun filled with gas pellets, and a red and black costume. He put the costume over his suit, pulling on the red gloves and covering part of his face with the cowl. It had holes revealing his hair, eyes and mouth. He proudly looked at the halo on the black chest of his costume and began to flap his wings.

'The Avenging Angel however won't stand by,' Warren thought, taking flight into the sky.

Unbeknownst to Warren however, his flight was watched by a passerby, whom perched on the nearby building.

"There's someone I hadn't seen in a long time," Spider-man said to himself. "I was beginning to think Angel's weren't real, I know the rest of New York didn't."

He recalled it, when he was fifteen, when he started fighting crime. The costume he wore had been a homemade one, blue trousers, his socks, fingerless gloves and a red hooded jumper that offered some additional protection in addition to his red mask and goggles. Regretfully he first started using his powers for money, in a wrestling circuit. He marked a spider on his top and took the name Spider-man.

Obviously something happened that made him turn to super heroics. But in that first year of crime fighting he hadn't been alone on the streets. There had been the Avenging Angel, the red and black clad hero who swooped over central park, picking up purse snatchers. Spider-man remembered a team up he had with the Angel, and Hells kitchen's hero. Not the devil rumoured to come out at night, but the Jewel. She flew out in the sun, her purple hair shining, wearing a white and blue costume that left her shoulders uncovered.

What they didn't mention in comics was the grit, and when they did, the grit was usually just a plot device. Something to make the characters seem more human. Peter saw it in the old Awe comics, the heroes fight, then team up to stop the bad guy, young heroes made fatal mistakes that cost the lives of people they loved, and after a mourning period they got back in the mask, then repeat storyline types. No, this wasn't a comic book, Spider-man, the Angel and Jewel didn't misunderstand one another's intentions and fight. They fought arms dealers and what seemed to be a super powered monster.

Except the monster was just a muscular guy, a muscular guy Jewel mistook for super strong and ended up killing. She'd been horrified by what her strength could do to people, and froze. Angel lasted a little longer, he'd been cautious. But when a bullet, a real bullet that could kill brushed against his wings, he felt it. Then he froze, even Spider-man froze when his spider sense blared.

'Oh my god, what is this?' he wondered, feeling the immense pain in his head.

His spider sense warned him of incoming threats. A ball in gym class, even people in the corridors at school. Every time someone brushed against him, his mind became aware of it. When he first fought people that required more than webs, and when he teamed up with fellow young heroes, that was when he found out just how painful his extra sense could be. Every pull of the trigger sent a spark of pain through Spider-man's head. And like his namesake, on instinct he reacted, dodging easily.

Angel flew away, and Jewel took a hit to the shoulder. She was super strong, but her skin wasn't unbreakable. They froze, and Spider-man acted, webbing up the bad guys, knocking them out with kicks. He never stopped moving, that was when Peter figured his best fighting style was one in which he was continuously moving, building up momentum. At the end of the night he dropped Jewel off at a hospital and went home, lied to his aunt about why he was late. And the last he heard of the Avenging Angel was a rumoured sighting at a private school fire.

After that Peter spent some time in the garage, making a pair of goggles that would suppress his sensory overload. That was when Peter created the lenses that were part of Spider-man's signature look. Anyone without his enhanced eye sight would struggle to see through the mask.

That was then, now, Spider-man waited, watched and waited. He waited until he had all the evidence he needed to know what was going on. When the gunfire started, then he jumped, fired a web and swung towards the building. Putting his arms and legs together, he swung into the window and landed in a crouched position inside. His spider-sense flared, immediately making him aware of the fact that someone was pointing a gun at him. He looked up and saw two guns pointed at him.

A Glock (Peter had seen plenty of action films to know what one looked like), and a homemade pistol that belonged to the Avenging Angel. Quickly Peter analysed what he saw. One man, a little on the plump side, with balding brown hair, was holding the pistol. His wife, a woman who looked like she could do better, had a round in her shoulder and of course tears in her eyes. Then there was the creature in the corner. He had brown hair that matched the woman's shade more than her husband's. The creature had black and yellow eyes, bigger than a human's. His fingers were slightly elongated, but his arms were short, his legs however were long, and required him to crouch. All in all, he looked like a Toad.

The creature was a person, a mutant, the father didn't like that, the mother protected her child and got a bullet in the shoulder for it. Now the police assumed that the boy was the threat. The Angel wasn't a real angel, but a mutant, probably. Either way he was like Peter, a person who wanted to help. But he was angry, judging from his expression, his near death experience a few years ago had made him harder.

Peter figured all that out within three seconds of being in the room, that was just how good his sense of vision had become.

Three seconds though was too much time, and the father reacted. Shooting the pistol and knocking Angel to the ground.

"NO!" Peter yelled out, firing a web into the barrel of the gun.

He pulled it from the man's grip, grabbed the gun, and then launched a web that stuck the man to the wall. There was a moment when Peter was tempted to web the man's face. But that wasn't his way.

"Please don't be dead," Peter muttered, looking down at Angel.

"Kevlar in the costume, god that hurts," Angel groaned, holding his chest as he stood up.

"That's one part they leave out of the movies," Peter quipped.

That was when the door was breached. Swat officers were lined up with their guns at the ready.

"DROP THE GUN!" the leader yelled.

"Oh this isn't what it looks like, unless you're smart police officers, then it totally is what it looks like," Spider-man.

"God it's a whole pack of muties," one of the officers said.

Spider-man slapped his forehead as Angel snarled. With a flap of his giant wings, he released a wind burst that threw the first line of officers back. The back row stumbled, and on instinct fired. Angel jumped to the side, and Spider-man fired webs, obscuring the vision of two officers. A Swat with a shotgun aimed, only for a web to wrap around the barrel. Spider-man quickly yanked the man forward, crushing the other two officers before they could stand.

"Okay we've clearly gotten off on the wrong foot, let's start again guys, me and him, friendly neighbourhood guys, him on the wall, not so friendly neighbourhood guy," Peter explained.

"He's the guy who started shooting," Angel said.

"Yeah right, we know Tolansky's reputation," the commander scoffed, his team mates standing up with him.

Groaning and recoiling his head back, Peter cursed the situation.

"Great, we got the wilfully ignorant officers, just my luck," he muttered.

"HE'S A DAMNED MISTAKE!" the man on the wall yelled. "Shoot him, do everyone a favour and mMMMF!"

Peter let out a relieved sigh, thankful his web had sealed the man's mouth shut.

"I'm a little inexperienced in those sort of things, but I think the guy is drunk," he said.

The officers raised their rifles again, and Peter braced himself. Suddenly, a red flash glowed behind the men. They thrown forward, some hitting the doorframe whilst two landed headfirst inside the apartment. Spider-man kept his guard up, whilst Angel shook his head.

"Here it comes," he said, expecting a lecture.

But no lecture came, instead, clad in his yellow and black outfit, Cyclops entered. A red mist hissed out of his visor, a way of venting the power from his optic blast. He looked at the mutated Todd and his mother and put on a warm expression.

"We're here to help, let's get you out of here," he said, offering Todd his hand.

* * *

Gary had always felt confident when walking down the street. Now, his skin was so pale, his veins were visible and had gone black, he had to keep his head low and hood up to keep people from seeing. To any passerby he looked like he was sick, coughing and heaving as he followed the girl in the flower dress. She was smiling as she walked, basking in the light of the sun, and the attention of every person who passed her.

"Where are we going?" Gary asked.

"Somewhere safe Gary, don't worry," she said.

He was tempted to ask more, but there was something about the woman's voice that made her seem genuine. That and he was just that desperate for help. They came to a small corridor of alleyways and began to walk down them. Each corner they turned gave way to another alleyway. Gary's memory of the city wasn't perfect, but he was sure the alleyway on this block wasn't that deep. But still he kept following the girl in the flower dress, because he was that desperate.

"Thank you Marcus," the girl said, looking up for a moment as they left the alleyway.

Gary gasped, they weren't in New York anymore. Signs with mandarin written on them were overhead, it was night time, raining, and the locals were walking around, going about their daily business. Everything seemed normal, there had been no flashy show of power, no bright light. They simply walked into an alleyway in New York and came out into Hong Kong.

"How is this possible?" he asked.

"Because of Marcus," the girl said.

"Who's he?"

"The being responsible for our transportation, 'he' is a label that cant apply to him anymore," she explained.

She beckoned him to follow. Coughing into his hand as he walked, Gary looked at the black liquid that had replaced his saliva. It was horrifying, he had become horrifying, yet the girl was walking forward as if everything was going to be all right. They walked through the streets until they reached a building. It had no clear business label, but it wasn't abandoned. When they got inside they were greeted by a local man, who exchanged bows with the girl. They conversed briefly in Mandarin before the man led them to an office, a red haired woman was sitting at the desk, impatiently tapping her foot against the table.

"Oh good, you finally brought him here," she said.

"Mr Stewarts, meet Debbie, she'll be your doctor over the coming days," the girl in the flower dress said.

"Wait, I can't stay in China, I have a life back in New York," Gary said.

"My work brought me here to China briefly, but I'll be going back to New York the same way you did. My job is to help people like you Gary, not just mutants but gifted individuals," Debbie explained.

"I don't understand."

"There's more than one source of power in this world," the girl in the flower dress pointed at the case on the desk.

She and Debbie nodded to Gary, silently encouraging him to open the case. He hesitated, and in that moment he coughed, again vomiting a mass of grey bile and oil onto the floor. The horror of it drove him to quickly open the case. Inside of it was a vial with a cork sealing it. The room was illuminated by the glowing blue liquid inside it.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A way to release your power, but in the way you want to release it, drink it and it'll suppress your abilities for a few hours. In that time we'll be able to adequately study exactly what your powers are, and what they can make you," Debbie explained.

The Machine Man watched, and flinched in shock as Gary reached for the vial. He shook his head as he pulled off the cork, and tilted the contents of the vial down his throat. Gary dropped it, smashing the glass onto the floor. His heart rate began to increase, like it never had before. He closed his eyes as pain seared through his head, it felt as if his brain was burning. It was the closest description he could think of that matched it.

Something was being burned into his brain. A vision, of things the likes of which he had never seen before. He saw a great white void, then complete and utter darkness. In quick succession images of heroes, of Captain America and the Iron man, but in different costumes. Images of men and women in costumes that looked like they came from 70's comics, planets of shifting green beings, bird like men and women, and beings of pure energy. He saw a galaxy and great armoured giants that seeded planets. Then he saw those planets devoured, a silver streak zooming past them.

When Gary opened his eyes, they were glowing blue. He smiled, Aaron however lowered his head.

"They're going to kill him, aren't they Uatu?" he asked, looking up at the sky, before he returned to the moon.

Next Chapter 5: Anonymity

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter

Next time there's a new Gary on campus, whilst the X-men and Spider-man run from the law. Meanwhile Sven chases a lead.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 5: Anonymity

'Anonymity is our greatest defence, the same defence many individuals have. There are those in this world whose differences from others aren't on the skin, or in the voice. Yet sometimes the voice can be what sets them apart from another, 'I'm republican, I'm Catholic, I'm a right wing conservative, my family were Christians but I converted to Islam, I'm gay, I was once a man but now I am a woman.' These things that people proclaim, sometimes with pride, can be what sets them apart or what truly makes them a part of their world. Because if they are not acknowledged and accepted, they don't truly feel as if they belong.'

'Mutants are the same way. Most of us want a place in the world, but that is where the similarities to the rest of them end. For our mutations are dangerous, our mutations do need to be mastered, or they can kill even us. Anonymity is our greatest defence. For both the authorities that would seek to abuse our power, and the people that would seek to harm us.'

'That's why I suspect you hide your power from these men who use you, Emma Carol!' Charles looked up at his recruit, someone who had been hiding in plain sight.

It was difficult for a girl like Emma to hide, she was stunning, blonde hair, a curved figure that draw the eyes of men and women alike. The club she worked at, was an underground one. An off shoot of the British formed Hellfire Club, Seventh Lust was a less than legal strip club. Women could touch, but the men couldn't. Emma was no dominatrix, but she was a good dancer. Charles influenced the minds of both the staff and the customers. They saw him as a deprived man who could walk without crutches. He'd requested a private dance with Emma, and they were taken to a seemingly private room.

But Charles knew that the mirror on the ceiling and the wall behind him, were two way mirrors. Two observations rooms had been build adjacent to the private chamber. One was above, the glass floor of that room was where private customers could observe if the dancers were paid for an 'extra' service. The room next to the chamber was a smaller room, exclusively for security, private contractors from the Leland corporation.

"What did you have in mind?" Emma asked, curling her hands around the back of her head, poking her chest out and pouting.

"I was thinking, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Charles said.

"That would take extra, more than the lesser dancers would take," Emma's brows curved down in anger and disgust.

 **"That wasn't what I had in mind,"** Charles projected into her mind.

She looked around the room, confused, as if expecting there to be a microphone in the room. But as Charles's mental disguise faded from only her vision, she smirked.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours, really?" she laughed, already knowing that Charles was making the observers see an 'innocent' dancing session.

"Hiding by not hiding, that's new," Charles said.

"Most men here are only looking at one thing," Emma retorted.

"I respect a person's privacy enough to not pry, so let me ask, why is the second daughter of Winston Frost working as a stripper?" he asked.

Emma huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Frost is a name I would rather not bear," she said.

"Fair enough, I know Winston and Hazel were both difficult people, but you didn't take her name either, Carol?"

"My paternal grandmother's maiden name, she was the kindest member of the family, next to my brother," Emma looked down for a moment, a signal she didn't want to continue the conversation.

Charles took up his crutches and stood, using his telepathy to shift the perception of the room. It was something to make Emma more comfortable, as well as a show of the skill and precision he had gained with his power. Skill he had only gained through testing and training with his abilities. Altering the perceptions of four men, and creating a completely new reality for a woman had become an easy task for him. Their new surroundings were an outdoor setting, the mansion grounds.

Two chairs appeared behind them, and a table between then. Charles's crutches disappeared, within this astral plane, he could walk as freely as he had before. Emma's lingerie changed into a modest white dress.

"I'm more of a shirt and jeans kind of girl, but nice trick," Emma said, sitting with Charles.

"The mansion you see behind me is a private school and training facility for people like us, to the public we're simply a private school for children with specific emotional or educational needs," Charles explained.

"I earn quite a significant amount of money here," Emma said.

"There is also the danger that you could be exposed...not that kind of exposure."

"A place to live yes, I live in a hostel at the moment, not the kind of luxury I had with my parents, but I don't regret it at all. I've also become good at concealing my abilities, or at least keeping them off, I don't like to use my mutation," Emma explained.

"You have a projection ability yes?" Charles asked.

"I project a field across my body that rearranges the carbon cells, the first time I used it, it made my body as hard as diamond. But I became completely cut off from my emotions. The second time I used it, my body became as brittle as coal, I lost a pinkie. The Hellfire Club paid for a transplant, which cost a lot."

"Are you in debt? Because I have quite a significant fortune."

"No Mr, what is your name again?" Emma asked.

"Charles Xavier, so I assume you won't be in a rush to show off?"

"Not until you've taught me how to control it," she said.

Charles cut the connection to the plane, returning Emma's perceptions to normal. He then offered her his hand.

"Welcome to the Xavier Academy Emma."

* * *

Hank checked his phone, Charles had been successful. He turned to the hot dog stand, where Bobby was paying for their lunch. The boy ran to Hank's side, giving him the dog with onions and soda.

"Are we seriously going to look for this guy again?" Bobby asked.

"Emphatically Bobby, Emma had the advantage of maturity," Hank shook his head as Bobby chuckled, motioning to a particular large part of Emma's body.

He clocked him around the back of the head for it.

"Anyway, Emma knew her mutation and its limits, despite her household she admirably remained emotionally stable, enough to control a power that could have killed her, or robbed her of emotion entirely," Hank explained as Bobby bit into his food.

"Hafen fwe fot fat fhe..." the boy gulped down what was in his mouth and looked up at Hank. "Couldn't she be doing that diamond thing on just her brain, you know to keep herself stable? From what I heard about this Frost family, it would be hard not to be screwed up by them. Mom's a junkie, dad's an overbearing asshole, the sisters want to kill you and the brother attempted suicide," he explained.

"How would you know that?" Hank asked.

"Christian Frost is one of my brother's idols, his story really put things in perspective for him," Bobby said.

"You know Bobby, that actually sounds very intelligent," Hank smiled at him.

"So do you think Emma will introduce us to her sisters?"

A sweat drop ran down the back of Hank's head as he sighed. The pair walked back towards ESU, where some of the clubs had started. Apparently Gary Stewarts excelled at his kick boxing club. They walked to the gym, where several students were practicing at the bags. One of them was a dark haired girl, she wasn't an overly muscular girl, or even the most pretty of girls. But every time she hit the bag it was a perfect punch, she was good, and confident too.

"Hello," Hank said to her.

"Hi, you looking to join?" she asked.

"Actually I'm looking for a member, I'm Hank, this is my brother Bobby."

"His brother from another mother, so it wouldn't be weird if you asked him out in front of me," Bobby grinned.

"I'm Fayth, who are looking for?" she asked, grabbing a towel and drying the sweat from her face.

"Gary Stewarts," Hank said.

"Are you looking to challenge him, cause he's good but I can already tell who'll win," Fayth said, causing Hank to grin.

"I'm afraid I'm no fighter, the works of Shakespeare and Hawkins interest me more, than the exploits of Mayweather or Tyson," Hank stated, a poetic tone rolling from his tongue.

Bobby shook his head as he turned his back to Hank. He noticed someone standing at the doorway to the gym, a girl with an A-plus model figure and pretty face. Whilst Hank continued the conversation, Bobby walked to the door.

"Although I dabble in gymnastics," Hank grinned as he spoke.

"No offence but, with your size," Faith said, and Hank kept grinning, if only she knew.

"None at all Faith, are you a kick boxer?" he asked.

"Mix martial arts, not brilliant but I am working to get my self defence instructor qualification," she said.

"Nice, do you know Gary well?"

"I haven't known him for long, but he seems like a nice guy, a bit of an overachiever, though at least he isn't stuck up about it. He has a girlfriend and a pretty big circle of friends, I wouldn't be surprised if he's volunteering at the club tonight. Dazzler, do you know her?" Faith asked.

"My taste in music is a little old fashioned, Oasis, Elton John, Goo Goo Dolls," Hank said.

"Iris is a great tune, and there is no generation to like Sir Elton John, are you a New Yorker?"

"I'm boarding at Westchester, which feels as close to small town as I can get right now. Nothing ever strange happened with Gary right?" Hank asked.

"Define strange," Faith huffed, shrugging her shoulders as she undid her hair, and took off her gloves. "Gary is just the perfect guy, which to be honest a lot of people actually don't like. Oh they aren't cruel enough to be impolite to his face, but they are intimidated by it. There's no doubt he's going to be successful."

Hank nodded his head, smiling gratefully at the girl.

"Thank you, you know you asked me about the club earlier, I'm going to be in the city a bit longer, some of my friends might be going, do you want to maybe meet up?" he asked.

The girl reached into her bag, pulling out her phone. Hank took his out and the two exchanged numbers.

"I'll be chaperoning some of my younger sisters from other mothers, maybe your brother from another mother might hit it off with one of them," Faith explained, smiling as Hank laughed, he had a good laugh.

"Speaking of, thank you again," Hank said as he turned to follow where Bobby had gone.

The boy was following the girl he saw from earlier. He stopped when she ran into one of the girl's bathrooms.

"Damn it," he said.

"What's the problem?" Hank asked.

"I think that girl might know Gary," Bobby said.

"I was just talking to a girl who knows Gary."

"Yeah but 'knows' knows, you know?"

"Why would I know?"

"Because smart people know when people know people, I mean really know them, like knowing what they know and don't know, you know, you just don't know that you know right now," Bobby explained and Hank shook his head.

"That's too many knows, besides as you see she's gone into the female toileting facilities, we really shouldn't..." Hank stopped midsentence, frozen on the spot, Bobby wasn't there anymore.

There was a sudden screech, and a crash on the other side of the door.

"GET OUT!"

"Sorry, do you know Gary Stewarts?"

Hank sighed, he loved Bobby, but he would rather have partnered with Scott.

* * *

Scott would honestly have rather partnered with Hank, even Bobby would have been better than Warren. The winged boy was still putting himself in danger, looking out through the window, and looking aggressively at Spider-man.

"Who are you people?" Todd was confused and frightened, looking to his mother, probably for the longest time he had in his life.

"I'm with the toad, what's going on here?" Spider-man inquired, keeping a safe distance from Warren's wings, and obviously ready to hit Scott's visor with a web.

Scott could see the subtle movements of his hands. He leant in a particular direction, in range to attack Scott. The scenarios ran through his mind, probably through Spider-man's too. Scott would fire, Spider-man would dodge, fire a web, that Scott would intercept. Either Spider-man would fall to the surprise and get hit, or he would dodge the follow up shot and launch himself at Scott. He didn't know the masked man's speed, so he had no way of knowing if he could react fast enough to dodge or hit Spider-man with a blast.

'But who says we have to fight?' Scott wondered.

He put his hand away from his visor and relaxed.

"Angel and I are here to help Tolansky, we aim to get him out of here and to a safe place. I've seen most of the articles and youtube videos about you Spider-man, I know you help people, believe me we're trying to help," he explained.

"Do you realise how worse you'll make things by running? Right now they see him as a criminal, the captain had no idea what his men were intending to do to Toad,"

"Its Todd!"

"And how do you know the captain isn't as bigoted as his men?" Warren asked.

"Because I know Captain George Stacy isn't like that, explain what happened to him, tell him what Todd's father was doing, there will be enough evidence to convince him that Todd is simply a mutant facing persecution," Spider-man explained.

"Forget the cops, we're fighting against the MRD," Warren said.

"He's right, this is out of Stacy's jurisdiction anyway, it doesn't matter how he reacts, I know what the MRD seems to be to other people, but there's more to it than that," Scott said.

"What do you mean?" Todd asked.

"WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN!" Warren yelled.

He flapped his winds, releasing a burst of air that would have thrown Spider-man back, if his feet weren't stuck to the floor.

'Damn it, we're clichéd fighting instead of cooperating after all,' Scott thought.

Spider-man fired a web, sticking it to Warren's suit. Warren flapped his wings again, throwing himself back and tearing away his avenging angel costume. Scott fired his optic blast, hitting Spider-man just enough to throw him away from Warren, to make sure Warren put his mask on. He did, but he also drew the blade on his wing, a little piece of bone on the top joint of his wing. Swinging his wing at Spider-man, he left a cut mark on the wall behind them.

"Wow, people definitely shouldn't be underestimating you," Spider-man said, punching Warren in the gut. "I'm guessing your bones are hollow, makes good for flight, not so good for taking hits," he pushed his hands off of the wall and kicked Warren in the chest, throwing him into the wall.

His wings in a heap, Warren braced himself for another hit. Suddenly, Todd's throat expanded, and he let out a yell.

"STOP IT!" a green projectile suddenly flew between Warren and Spider-man, sticking to the wall next to them.

"Just top pwease!" he said, tears in his eyes as his tongue stretched to the ground.

The mask on Spider-mans eyes narrowed, he looked at the ground just like Warren did.

"The MRD, they say they're out to help mutants, well they wouldn't be the first government agency to be corrupt. You say you want to help Todd right? Well what does he have to say about it?" Spider-man turned his head to the boy, who looked at Scott and Warren.

"I don't trust the cops or the MRD, but what can you guys do for me?" he asked.

"We can get you out of here for a start, and your mom too," Scott said.

"You'll keep us safe?" she asked.

"With our lives if we have to!"

"Well hopefully it won't cost us that, I'll distract the cops, and cost me some reputation points," Spider-man said.

"Leave the distracting to me," Warren said.

They both narrowed their eyes at one another.

"I'll take the left, you take the right?" the masked man asked.

"Deal!"

"We'll need a clear path to the alleyway, there's a manhole cover there, we'll be able to retreat through the sewers and regroup at the rendezvous point," Scott explained.

"Sure thing lieutenant Cyclops sir," Warren huffed.

Peter turned away from the Tolanskys and Cyclops. He didn't know who they were, and he didn't know what the MRD truly was, he did know however that there was little evidence about how they helped mutants. One thing his employers, the Daily Bugle consistently reinforced was the idea that anyone assisted by the MRD tended to disappear. He jumped onto the window sill, took a deeb breath, and jumped.

* * *

Captain George Stacy had been about to call into his microphone, when a web suddenly clogged it up. Spider-man suddenly landed on the roof of his car, leaving a dent in it.

"Sorry in advance for this," he said, before hitting him with a web and throwing him into the car behind him.

The other cops quickly turned to Spider-man, but he was already in midjump. Webs flew from his hands, binding arms to cars, clogging guns and sticking cops together. But still the cops managed to fire their guns. Linking his web lines to the walls, Spider-man used them to alter his position in midair, easily dodging round after round. He landed in the centre of a group of uniformed cops. One was suddenly tripped to the floor, and Spider-man stuck him to the ground with a web. At the same time he had pulled a man's shot gun from his grip, used it to smack the man beside him. Then he stuck the man who held the shotgun with a web, trapping him on the front of his car. Two more cops aimed their guns at the side of Spider-man's head and came in close, a mistake. He crouched, tripping one, then jumping onto the other's shoulders. From the 'perch' he distracted the cops with flurries of webs and lines.

Angel swooped down, firing his pellet gun as he did. The smoke began away from the police cars, but with a few flaps of his wings, Angel was trapping the cops in gas clouds. Landing on the ground, Angel bashed men back into the gas with his wings, picked others up and held them above the ground, before throwing them into the gas as well. He landed and split a rifle in half with his wing, yelling from the pain before delivering a right cross to the man's face. Taking flight again, he fired his pellet gun again and again, covering his part of the street in gas.

'Much better Warren,' Scott thought, as if judging his performance.

Together, Angel and Spider-man had created a straight line from the apartment alleys, to the alley Scott intended to use as his escape route. Nodding to Todd and his mother, he ran forward, keeping his hand on his visor. Spider-man and Angel respectively jumped and flew over them, to check on them, the fully masked one giving them a thumbs up as he did.

Captain Stacy had managed to run away from his trapped and distracted men. He saw what he assumed to be Todd Tolansky, his mother, and a young man in a yellow and black suit identical to the Angel's.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" he yelled, pointing his pistol at them.

They were already in the alleyway, the young man lifting off a manhole cover with great effort. Then the gunshot echoed, only it wasn't George who had fired.

"MOM!" Todd screamed.

The young man in the suit and George looked on in shock. A bullet had ripped through Mrs Tolansky's side, sending blood dripping to the floor. Both looked up, seeing a reflection on the rooftop. Stacy aimed his gun at the shooter, only for the masked boy to fire a red blast from his eyes. The shot hadn't hit his mark, because Stacy could see the man rolling away from the blast.

"All officers, we have an unknown shooter on the roof of the adjacent building to the north east of the apartment, Maria Tolansky has taken a shot, she, her son and an unknown male have now gone into the sewers," George quickly explained, going back to his men. "SNIPER! GET TO COVER!" he yelled.

Warren heard the police captain yell to his men. He scanned the rooftops, noticing someone in a black and purple suit using one of the fire escapes. He was about to pursue when he felt something hit him in midair. It was harmless at first, feeling like a flee bite. But suddenly, Warren felt as if volts of electricity were being pumped into his body. His wings flinched uncontrollable, as if they were having a spasm attack. Then he fell, straight into the arms of Spider-man.

"Keep your men back Captain," a voice said over the radio.

From across the neighbourhood, the shooter lowered his rifle, the glow on the barrel fading. He was a black haired young man, wearing military style fatigues and gear. Across from him stood an African American man in similar gear, though he also wore sunglasses and a cowboy style hat. Next to him was a blonde haired man with elongated ears and a dog like nose. Then there was a man wearing grey armour on his chest and a grey mask across his eyes, which exposed his brown hair. The man who had actually spoken on the radio though, was wearing a vest with shoulder pads, and the MRD symbol on his breast. He was a man in his late thirties, with fully shaved brown hair and a disciplined, commanding presence, fitting as he led the men coming out of the armoured trucks behind him.

"This is Commander Will Stryker of the MRD's X-Force unit, we'll take it from here!"

* * *

When the girls had finished yelling at Bobby, he had found Lizbeth. She walked with him and Hank to the cafeteria, where they sat, talking about Gary. Over the past few minutes, she had told them about their first meeting, dating, agreeing to go to the same college, because they were in love, at least Liz hoped so.

"How much do you love him?" Bobby asked, drawing a look from Hank.

"Space invasion also applies to questions Bobby," he said.

"It's all right, I love him so much, we both lost our virginity to one another. He's not normally cut off like he has been, I know that something is wrong, and I know it can't have anything to do with me. Just give it to me straight, cause he might never tell me, is he a mutant?" Lizbeth asked.

Hank thought about what Charles said, about anonymity being a mutant's greatest defence. Gary deserved to be safe, deserved to live free of persecution. But if he and Lizbeth were in such a strong relationship, she deserved to know. He had to tell her eventually, and if they lived their live happily, without him telling her, it wasn't fair on her. There were small lies and omissions in relationships, but there were certain things people needed to know. Lizbeth needed to know, and she couldn't wait for Gary to be ready, or for something terrible to happen.

"Gary is a mutant, he manifested a few days ago, that's probably why he's been so distracted and worried," Hank said.

"Are you with the MRD?" Liz asked.

"We're more of a private outfit, but our intentions are similar, keep people safe but help mutants to cope with and learn to control their abilities, do you know where Gary is?" Bobby asked.

"He was supposed to meet me earlier, that's why I'm so worried, he isn't usually someone to be late," Liz said.

Both boys completely understood her concern. They were about to inquire more about Gary, when there was a commotion at the back of the cafeteria. Liz got off her chair, walking with Hank and Bobby to where a crowd had gathered. She noticed Harry and Mary, the new people, standing close to the middle of the crowd.

"Harry, Mary, what's going on?" she asked.

"It's Gary," Harry said.

Bobby and Hank both exchanged looks, and began pushing through the crowd. When they reached the end, they saw Gary, skin bright and healthy, eating piles of food. He was eating it faster than it should have been possible, downing copious amounts of milkshake as well. Liz reached the end of the crowd and recoiled slightly, seeing Gary eat food he usually didn't, processed meat from the cafeteria.

"Hey babe," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Bobby turned away in disgust as the others cheered. Hank however narrowed his eyes at Gary. He was probably the only one who noticed that Gary's food was breaking down differently in his mouth. The food dissolved into a grey bile, that slipped down Gary's throat, allowing him to eat quicker than usual. He also noticed the subtle dilation of his pupils.

Gary was on something.

* * *

Sven was onto something.

After the disaster that was his visit to Ravencroft, Sven decided to go to an address in on his notebook. It was in the Harlem area, and Sven had gotten there with little incident. The warehouse was deserted and in disrepair, construction equipment was outside of it, including a Bulldozer. But there were still people on the streets and not a crew in sight. Climbing inside was easy, searching the warehouse top to bottom took time. Fortunately one thing Sven had was time, time to check every corner, every pillar. He looked at the notebook again, focusing on a half faded detail.

"Check for the symbol," he repeated it out loud, and in his head.

There was something odd about the wall he was looking at. The place was supposed to be deserted, but though it was by no means recent, the wall had been painted over. Taking a chunk of glass from the nearby window, Sven began scraping at the paint. He accidentally cut himself on the glass though, prompting him to use his handkerchief as a makeshift dressing. He dropped the glass and squeezed his right hand into a fist, soaking the blood onto the cloth. Scraping at the rest of the paint with his nails, he began to see the faint outline of a symbol on it.

"Check for the symbol, seems as good a symbol as any," Sven said, turning a page on the book. "Bird on a shield, possible safe or storage house," he knocked on the wall, it was hollow inside, and there was enough room for a space on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, Sven took a few steps back, then ran at the wall. It took a few painful hits, but he eventually managed to break through. Dust filled his lungs, making him cough and squint as t invaded his eyes too. He got off of his knees, waited to recover, and looked at the hidden room. It was small, probably the equivalent of an office clean room, big enough for a bucket, mop and some sanitising sprays. There weren't however any chemicals or a bucket and mop in the room. A computer had its hard drive broken, and there were empty shelves.

According to the neighbourhood, the building had been one of many places caught in the storm that was the Cataclysm. But there was a pattern, nothing here indicated the kind of damage the Cataclysm had done. There were burn and scorch marks, internal detonations. The place had obviously been damaged when the Cataclysm occurred, or something happened that made abandoning it necessary. Either someone was scared of the Cataclysm robbing them of what they were doing, exposing it, or they had succeeded in whatever it was, and used the Cataclysm as the convenient way to cover their tracks. A disaster that was a good coincidence for them, but annoying for Sven.

'Why keep the room itself intact though?' Sven wondered.

He sat on the ground, scratching the back of his head. That's when he noticed something about the floor. Sven stood, felt the spongy feeling on the floor with his foot. Then he slammed his foot down, breaking through a loose floor boarding. Tearing the rest of it away, Sven saw a bundle rolled up inside it. They were sheets of tissue wrapped around a disc, offering it only minor protection from dust.

'Finally, results,' Sven thought, pocketing the disc and getting ready to leave.

That's when he felt the room shake. Then the entire building. He looked towards the far wall, it was a shovel from one of the demolition trucks outside. It crashed through the wall, tearing it away and crumbling it to pieces. Sven narrowed his eyes at the machine, then blinked in confusion.

On the front of the shovel, were the glowing yellow lines, of a pair of eyes.

Next Chapter 6: Outcasts

* * *

The plot thickens, more icons introduced next chapter.

Some of the characters and concepts I worked on for character introductions:

Will Stryker: William 'Will' Stryker junior, MRD commander of X-force, a military man with some misgivings about mutants. Want to portray him as a reasonable character, not a bigot but someone who you could almost agree with.

Wild Child: Fights with his own feral nature, later chapters will establish that the 'Wild Child' moniker is more of an insult based on his background. His physical mutation gave him dog like features, design wise the dog like nose would be for tracking.

Maverick: Wanted to stick to the armoured look, but not the colour scheme.

Bolt: Keeping the origin of Maverick being his mentor, it showing in how he uses his powers.

John Wraith: Went for the classic Marvel look for this character.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 6: Outcasts

All was peaceful in Harlem, until the demon truck began its path of destruction. Sven crashed through one of the warehouse windows, cushioning his body as he slammed into a trash bin. He recoiled in pain.

"That's definitely going to bruise," he muttered.

He rolled off the bin, landing on his wobbling feet. His leg was hurt too, the same feeling it got whenever he had a cramp in it. Bricks began to come down behind him as he yelped, fear driving him forward despite the pain. Once he adjusted to it, he ran, not as well as he could have, but enough to get out of the death trap that was the alleyway. Only the demonic truck crashed through the building, only moments after he got out of the alley. The truck turned, trying to crush Sven with its shovel.

Sven ducked, keeping low as he ran, bricks raining down on him. He looked behind him, seeing the truck tear through part of a building, sending debris, and people falling onto the streets. People who went about their daily, ordinary lives. One minute they walked calmly on the street, their deepest fear a simple mugging in this part of town. Now they were running, toppling over fallen debris and bodies, to get away from a monster.

"No," Sven looked at the bodies in horror.

One man was still alive, barely, his legs having shattered. Sven looked at the path ahead, and then at the helpless man, thinking too much about acting. That was when a brick slammed into the top of his head, and plunged his world into darkness.

* * *

When it came to darkness, Scott was actually thankful for his eyes. When all you saw was constant red, you didn't process darkness the same as others. He could see in the dark, and that helped guide Todd and his mother through the sewers. But there was still the smell, the disgusting smell of everything the neighbourhood produced, flowing into one direction. Even Scott was bothered by it, feeling bile gather in his throat.

"My mom, what are you going to do for her?" Todd asked.

"We just need to get to the rendezvous point, our leader used to be a medic in the army, he'll be able to treat her," Scott assured him, seeing the panic in Todd's growing eyes.

More and more his skin was starting to gleam, like the toad that Spider-man had called him. Scott only saw a concerned son, different from the selfish loser people talked about.

"What does he keep a treatment kit on him? I'm not as idiotic as you think, I know it isn't as easy as films make it out to be, and we're wading through sewage so that isn't helping," Todd explained.

"Keep moving, try to stay calm and talk to your mother, keep her awake, but miss Tolansky please try not to talk, save your strength," Scott adjusted his grip on the woman's arm, compensating for the height difference between him and Todd.

Todd would have been the same height as Scott, but the curving of his limbs and hump on his back had forced him to be shorter than he statistically was. Scott kept moving them forward, keeping the priority on them, casting aside all concern for Warren. As troublesome as he could be, he didn't want any harm to come to his team mate.

'No,' he thought, focusing entirely on the Tolansky's, on getting them safe and through the sewers. 'Focus Summers, forget the smell, forget the weight on your shoulder, forget your team mates, focus, prioritise and keep moving forward. Don't think, just move!'

Then he stopped, stopped thinking and let his body move for him. He knew where he needed to go, what he needed to climb up and where the paths split. When he came to the ladder to another level, he propped Tolansky onto his shoulder and climbed. Todd tried grabbing the handles, but his hands slipped off of them.

"Damn it, I dry my hands but they're still damn wet," he said.

As Todd complained, Scott lifted up Tolansky's shirt and looked at the wound. The bullet was still in there, so bleeding to death wasn't an issue. Infection was, but with the bullet still in her body, he couldn't just cauterise her wound. Todd jumped, higher than he would have without his mutation, hitting his back on the ceiling and falling behind Scott.

"Need to work on my landing," he said.

"You always were clumsy," Maria said.

She had little beads of sweat, Scott noticed the slight alteration of her skin tone, though because of his eyes it was only a subtle change.

"I know mom, I'm such a disappointment," Todd said.

"No, no, you never disappointed me, I'm the screw up, didn't get out while I could have. He's not your dad Todd, he was never your real father," Maria explained.

"What, are you saying that dad was right, you had an affair?"

"Hey, talk to her, but don't stress her out, now help me," Scott commanded.

"You don't need to tell me to help my mom, my bitch of a mom, but still my mom," Todd snarled, taking one of Maria's arms and helping Scott to lift her.

They carried her down the tunnel, moving as fast as they could without hurting her. Scott stopped for a moment, thinking he had heard additional footsteps, besides theirs. Even though there was nothing behind them, Scott couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his mind. It felt as if there was something watching them, following them down the corridor of tunnels. Scott kept on moving, looking over his shoulder every so often.

"I'm kind of glad mom, if what you were trying to get at is true then I'm glad. I'm glad that guy back there isn't my father," Todd said, his mother forcing a smile.

He was certainly no fool, he'd no doubt make a good recruit. That was if he wanted to spend his life running. Scott didn't see the appeal, but he had reasons to fight against the corrupt system. Reasons he cast to the back of his mind, continuing to climb up different levels. Todd was getting the hang of jumping, he'd only hit his head a couple of more times.

"Not much further mom, not much further now," Todd reassured the woman.

Scott stopped, this time knowing he had heard something, knowing that his ears weren't playing tricks on him. He moved his head, seeing something move behind him. Something paper thin, but shaped like a person. He fired a low level optic blast, not enough to singe, but enough to give a bruise. Whatever he hit yelped.

'Definitely a person,' he thought.

It was a she, a two dimensional she. Her skin continually shifted colours, going many different shades of brown and green, and stopping at shades of pink and blue. She stumbled back, looking at Scott in fear.

'Mutant, physical manifestation,' Scott thought, analysing the opponent.

Which turned out to be opponents. He pushed Todd behind him, bracing himself as the wall shattered. A large body had burst through it, six foot seven, in dirty ripped clothing. Scott adjusted his footing, dodging a punch from a very large hand. When the dust cleared, he saw a bald man with a face of pure rage.

"LEAVE TOMMY ALONE!" he yelled.

He swung another enlarged hand, one Scott dodged at the last moment. The man left a fist shaped dent in the wall, and the tunnel itself began to shake.

'Enlarged head, feet, face and arms, deeper voice tone, physical mutation that's caused a more severe form of Acromegaly,' Scott kept stepping back, putting a hand to his visor.

"HEY PAWS OFF!"he heard Todd yell.

Scott shot the giant in front of him, throwing him down the corridor. He then turned to Todd, who was being held by a person with Mole like features, including an snout and fur across his body. His mother was in the arms of an old woman, the typical granny type image with very large glasses.

"We need to go now, sleep," the woman hummed, her eyes glowing as she looked at Todd.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he fell back into the Mole's arms.

"We need to go, need to go now," a higher pitched voice spoke behind Scott.

He looked towards the giant and the paper lady, there was a new addition. The new addition had grey skin and in contrast to the giant was short and skinny. There was an area on his cheeks and brow that showed an obvious enlargement of his bones, they formed edges past his jaw and on either side of his forehead. Again the tunnel shook and a bit of debris came down.

"Oh no, Caliban told you no fighting, tunnel coming down, need to move Sunder," the albino said.

"I can't move him," Tommy said.

They widened their eyes as Scott grabbed the giant's legs.

"Come on, you two drag and I'll lift, MOVE!" Scott yelled.

He felt his back strain from lifting the weight. But still he moved forward, not thinking about the rubble, just getting the trio out of there. They jumped out of the tunnel, falling downwards. Tommy landed on one of the adjacent tunnels, whilst Caliban hit the wall before falling with Scott and Sunder. Scott let Sunder go, knowing Caliban wouldn't survive a fall. He grabbed the little man, and fired several blasts down with his beams, slowing their descent. They fell into the knee deep water below, Scott quickly grabbing the fallen Sunder, keeping his head above water.

"You saved Caliban and Sunder," the grey skinned man said.

"Saving people is my job, now who are you?" Scott demanded, resting Sunder against the wall and looking Caliban in the eyes.

"We're mutants, like you," Tommy said, fluttering to the ground like a piece of paper.

"I very much doubt that," Scott retorted.

"You're right, our mutations are physical like that boy you had taken."

"Not taken Tommy, trying to help, like he did Caliban and Sunder," Caliban said.

"And Todd's mother, she was shot earlier and if she doesn't get medical help she'll die," Scott stated.

What he said didn't seem to bother Tommy, he saw it bothered Caliban though. The grey skinned man wanted to talk, but struggled, obviously holding something back. A cough came out of Sunder, he was weak, the fall having taken a toll on him. But not so weak that he couldn't talk, and say something that put Scott's mind at ease.

"Annalee will take them to the Alley, to Healer," he said.

"Is that a literal healer?" Scott asked.

"No it isn't, shut up Sunder, we still don't know if we can trust him," Tommy said.

"Caliban doubts Callisto would let Healer help!"

"For god's sake Caliban shut up!"

"This Alley is part of the tunnels right, but obviously not a part that any regular maintenance worker could get to right?" Scott asked.

"We're not taking you there," Tommy retorted.

"I'm not interesting in ruining anything for you, I just want to make sure that Todd and his mother are okay," Scott explained.

He closed his eyes, reaching for the latches on his visor. After disconnecting them, he offered the visor to Tommy.

"If I open my eyes I'd wipe out the tunnel, or break my neck from the force of the blast. I'm not in a rush to discover either, but I am in a rush to make sure that woman survives and that her son is in a safe place. So please take me there," he asked, not pleaded or threatened.

Finding common ground was what Xavier had taught him, compromising. He couldn't see, but what Scott didn't tell these people was that he was used to being blind. Even if he couldn't see where they were taking him, he counted the steps, memorised the direction changes. For whilst he was willing to compromise, he wasn't going to jeopardise his life by not knowing where to go to escape. More importantly, he had a feeling that this Alley was a place he needed to learn how to get back to.

* * *

Peter was low on web fluid. Making a thicker web line usually drained it quicker. Despite his bones, the added weight of the wings made Angel as heavy as any ordinary person. Spider-man quickly flipped, dodging gunfire. He threw Angel towards a rooftop, then fired two web lines, launching himself onto the building next to it. Crawling and rolling across the wall, he tried staying out of sight of the new arrival's targeting lasers. Once he was on the rooftop, he took the time to eject his web cartridges, and quickly loud in new ones.

Underneath him, George Stacy looked at the leader of the military group. Will Stryker coordinated his men quickly, he was also quick to chide the cops for their use of live ammo. He told them to leave, and Stacy was inclined to agree. The only thing keeping him on the spot was the questionable jurisdiction. It was a common conflict between mutant response and local PDs. In George's own experience cops fell into three categories when it came to one agency taking over from another. Some cops were eager to get rid of the case, others were professional enough to not care either way, and there were those that wanted to keep the case. Sometimes it was pride, or a need to see a case through, to know what the outcome would be. George was similar, which was why Stryker had to step up to him.

"Move captain, your men are getting in the way," Will said.

As the commander faced the captain, the men behind him prepared. Additional troops in advanced riot armour came out of the trucks. One of the men released several disc shaped objects. The man with the cowboy hat sunglass's got brighter, coordinates and video feeds appearing on his lenses. He grinned as he saw Spider-man, recovering from the chase the cops gave him. Within seconds, layers of the man's body came apart, skin exposed muscle tissue and organs, organs gave away for bones, until there was nothing, not even an atom of the man remaining.

Spider-man's spider sense flared. He looked around, trying to find where the danger was. Suddenly, something hit him in the back. The blow threw him across the roof, hitting his shoulder on the ledge. Peter looked towards where the attack had come from. It was the man in the cowboy hat, a metallic glove attached to his hand. The knuckles of the glove glowed as he suddenly disappeared. Again the spider sense blared out. Spider-man turned, meeting the gauntlet with his face. His vision blurred, unable to tell if the man was disappearing again or not.

"Intel confirms you're not a mutant son, doesn't mean you aren't an MRD or X-force problem," the man said, hitting Peter with a left hook for insult, then punching him in the chest with the gauntleted hand.

Peter felt like crying out in pain as his back hit the ledge. He quickly jumped off of the roof, fired a web line, and swung to the rooftop he had dropped Angel on. There, the dark haired man with the rifle stood over Angel, alongside the man in armour. Suddenly the man in a cowboy hat appeared between them, tipping his hat to Peter. The barrel of the younger man's rifle glowed, before a bolt of electricity flew towards Peter. He twisted in midair, barely dodging the bolt, feeling static across his shoulder. The man in the armour drew a pair of tonfa from his belt, coming at Peter as he landed. Spider-man dodged the man's swipes, then punched him across the face. But much to his shock, the man still stood, resuming his assault. Again Peter punched him, on his exposed jaw. Though it bled a little, the man didn't seem to process the blow. It wasn't the armour, because Peter had hit the man twice on the jaw. The man struck Peter across the face with his club, making him flip back.

'Okay, electrical powers, that other guy either doesn't process pain, or he's absorbing the kinetic force,' Peter summarised, his spider sense blazing as the man in the cow boy hat disappeared again. 'This guy, though, good old fashioned teleportation, time it just right!' he thought, taking a hit to his side again.

He counted down the time between teleportation and reappearance, read the pattern of attacks. If he was off by even a second, his arm would end up literally going through the man's head. The man disappeared, and trusting in his spider sense, Peter focused. When the man reappeared behind him, he grabbed his wrist, preventing him from punching him. Suddenly, they both disappeared and Peter felt agony. His skin being peeled, his organs disappearing, bones dissolving to nothingness. A moment passed and he could breathe again, he could feel his body again. It felt as if he had run a marathon, prior his powers, anyone else would have passed out already. Which obviously spoke volumes to the stamina the man in the cow boy hat had.

"Well what do you know, it took me three minutes to do what New York's finest never could," the man bragged.

Peter looked up at the man, seeing he was standing next to Stryker and Stacy. MRD troops surrounded him, aiming their rifles at him. Quickly Peter moved his hands, spraying webbing onto his neck, fixing his mask to his shirt. His gloves didn't matter, he didn't have a record to check finger prints through and he always bought the parts and chemicals for his web shooters with cash. The webbing across his neck gave him a few hours.

"Smart," the man said, before hitting Peter in the face again.

"Well done Wraith," Stryker said, moving his hand to his ear piece. "Nord, is the winged one in custody?" he asked.

"Wings and arms bound commander," the armoured one said. "Had to resuscitate him though, Bradley's shot stopped his heart."

"It was an accident sir," the black haired man, Bradley spoke up quickly.

"Lethal force wasn't authorised, just get him into the truck. Captain, get your men out of here now," Stryker repeated to Stacy.

"I'm taking Spider-man into my custody," George quickly stepped over Spider-man's body, keeping the soldiers from grabbing him.

Stryker shook his head, not having time for a debate. Intel confirmed that Spider-man wasn't a mutant, but personally Stryker wanted the vigilante in custody anyway. But he didn't have time for custody, with a wave of his hand his man back off and Stacy draped the young man's arm over his shoulder. As Stacy walked back, Stryker scanned the crowd for the tell tale signs of a shooter. No one carrying any big bags or wearing thick coats. His radio crackled and again Stryker touched his ear.

"Commander, I found where the shooter was," the blonde with the dog's nose said.

"Any scent Gibney?" Stryker asked.

"Could track it, found a shell casing too, Hammer Tech," Gibney said.

Lowering his hand, Stryker adjusted the frequency of his radio.

"All teams, mutants may have fled into the sewers, once the winged mutant is in custody an X-force member will accompany each team to search for his accomplices," he explained.

He looked at the winged mutant as he was loaded onto the truck. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation on his skull, he turned on the radio again.

"The group has a telepath with them!"

* * *

Charles opened his eyes. The few seconds he had spent in the MRD commander's head gave him some insight. Not only on Angel's capture, but Stryker's own ability as a telepathic resistor. The man would also be sensible enough to command his men to use a different escort route to their base. With Emma sitting beside him, he dialled in the number for Sage.

"Override mental block, emergency code-Stewart McAvoy 1940 to 1979," Charles said.

In Westchester, Sage's lesson with Jean was suddenly interrupted. Binary code swept over Sage's eyes as she froze.

 **"Emergency code accepted!"** her voice telepathically projected.

"Sage, Angel has been captured, stop your lesson with Jean and go to the loft, we need to start tracking the MRD vehicle," he said.

"What can I do to help?" Emma asked, stopping as Xavier raised his hand.

He turned his phone off, then put it into the holder near his radio. The dials on the radio suddenly glowed, and the touch screen flickered before going black.

"We should rest Miss Grey," Sage said, before walking out of the classroom.

Jean looked at where Sage once stood. She had a good enough control of her ability to know that something was wrong. It wasn't a sudden spike in emotion, Sage was almost like a computer. For hours they had been going, and Sage was never the one to suggest a break. Sage also seemed to have no care that Jean was following her, walking up the stairs until they reached the top floor of the mansion. She stopped at the loft, removing her glasses. A red light suddenly scanned her eye, a staircase came down from the ceiling, one Sage quickly walked up, with Jean following.

They walked up into what was Sage's room and primary work space. At first it appeared to be a simple spotless attic, save for the chair at the centre of it. A large wire connected the chair to a phone line. Sage took a seat, putting her glasses on, the binary code reflecting off of them. She rested her head back as the chair rose up. Holographic screens appeared Sage as the lights grew dim. Jean looked at them in awe and shock, face book updates, feeds from street and police cameras, as well as phone conversations. Sage was processing them all at once, obviously tracking something.

* * *

Scott counted and memorised every shift in movement. It was Tommy guiding him, her skin felt as thin as paper, but still very much like skin. Moist and cold from spending day to day in the sewers. Her scent was like that too, but Scott could tell she used make ups and air fresheners to try and hide it. It was the same for Caliban and Sunder, and must have been the same for everyone in their 'society'. Cyclops used that term as he heard something open in front of him, heard the whispers of people.

"Callisto's not going to like this," he heard someone say.

"Top sider scum!"

"YOU!"

He then felt someone's arms wrap around him, and a smell that was undoubtedly Todd. When the visor came back over his eyes, his suspicions were confirmed. Not only about Todd hugging him, but where they were. The place was undoubtedly a hidden tunnel in the sewers, but it had no special look to it. There were however beds, curtains, sleeping bags and numerous boxes, forming make shift shelters and cover for privacy. There were even washing lines, some of the people Scott saw had hair dryers, but they weren't using them. They were too focused on him, and he on them. Each of them were visible mutants, Scott recognised the mole like man from earlier. He also saw a skeleton surrounded by flames, a man with an ape like jaw, and a man whose arms were like featherless chicken wings. Every person in the tunnel possessed a visible physical mutation, or a projection mutation that had altered their body.

"Welcome to the Alley," Tommy said.

"When they told me the tunnel went down I was freaking out, Annalee nearly put me to sleep again if Healer didn't convince him not to," Todd explained.

"Him?" Scott raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Convincing right? Well let me explain, you can see a lot of these guys are like me right? Well some aren't, but they're outcasts in other ways," Todd took Scott by his shoulder and led him towards an area with curtains around it.

"Where is Callisto?" Caliban asked a young man with a Mohawk.

"Scouting with the spikers, hey Erg when did they leave again?" the boy called across the tunnel.

A lanky, dark haired man pulled a tank top off of his line, putting it on and adjusting the cloth over his right eye.

"Roughly four hours, there's a good chance they heard the commotion up top Ray," he said.

"Shit, who do you think is going to react worse Callisto, or Sarah?" the one with the mohawk, Ray asked.

"She hates it when you call her that," Tommy said.

"It is her real name," Ray huffed.

There was a common thing amongst mutants, taking on new names. Some literally took new names to keep themselves safe from authority, others took it to a more severe level. Those ones took on monikers based on their abilities, sometimes even referring to their birth names as 'slave names'. Ray Crisp wasn't that kind of person. But for the rare instances he went up to the top for cash in hand work, he used the last name Carter. Sarah tried to call him Berzerker (insisting on the z spelling) but he wasn't one of those mutants.

"Why did you bring him here?" he asked Caliban.

"He help save Sunder, Caliban knows he isn't like others."

Ray nodded his head in complete understanding, watching the new arrivals go to Healer's area. When one said the name healer, Scott expected an old robed man in a beard. He was in his sixties, but looked to be in good shape, commonly wearing muscles shirts underneath old cheque shirts. He had a beard, but it wasn't so long that he couldn't do his work. And it seemed he had done his work, there was plaster on the patch Maria had been shot on. She was resting on a cot as Healer saw to a girl with enlarged hands. He put his hand on a cut she had, his skin briefly turning gold as the cut sealed itself and eventually faded.

"A projection mutation," Scott said, catching the man's attention.

"Close," the man said, using a towel to wipe the blood away.

He took a sweet from a bowl and gave it to the girl, smiling as she walked out.

"It's actually a mental mutation, grants me absolute control over my own biology and others, I can speed up the repair process. For Mrs Tolansky however I had to stop the decaying process, a difficult thing to do," he explained.

"Maria is grateful, and won't be going by Tolansky anymore," the woman said, causing the Healer to smile again.

"In that case I won't go by that name either," a determined expression crossed Todd's face. "Mom, what was my real father's name?"

A warm smile crossed Maria's face. There was a look in her eyes, as if she was remembering better and happier days. Her eyes even watered as she looked at Todd.

"Toynbee, his name was Mortimer Toynbee," she said.

Scott looked away, leaving Todd to hug his mother. He focused on Healer, who motioned for Scott to follow him. They walked past the curtains, going past several tunnels were mutants were sleeping in or conversing. No one was waiting for anything, Scott could see that they were genuinely living down here and not just hiding.

"What is this place?" he had to ask though, to know for sure.

"Home to some, sanctuary to others, to the outcasts since the nineteen sixties. Annalee was the first, he could easily hide his projection mutation, but not what clothes he preferred to wear. People assumed he was gay, he got death threats, and that was before people found out he was a mutant. Shows you how far things have come doesn't it?" Healer asked.

"Things are better up there, but still quite bad," Scott conceded.

"The fact you can admit to that speaks of your character Mr..."

"Cyclops, that'll do for now!"

"Your uniform tells me you're part of something, and the name I can tell is a shield, as well as your mask. I don't fault you your distrust, anonymity is our greatest defence after all," Scott hid his reaction to the man's repeat of his teacher's words well.

But he couldn't help but be bothered by the repeat of the words, and the almost identical tone and context to the Professor's. Healer smiled and said hello to a few of the mutants, wishing them a good day, even kicking a ball back to some children playing.

"Todd called this place a home for Outcasts, from what I can tell you have good control over your mutation, why are you an outcast?" Scott asked him.

"Besides mutant there's no real label you could use, oh wait heterosexual is still a label," he muttered, before turning to Scott, his eyes more serious than they had been. "I am a man who can heal with a touch, but I am also a man who can kill with it. Even before the MRD was officially formed, there were people who would have used me. People here see me as a leader at times, but up there, even in this age of technology and higher education there are still people who would look at me as some kind of messianic figure," he explained.

"Or a devil," Scott added and the man nodded.

"I want to do good, but on my terms. One thing this place needs is a health care system that isn't picky or biased," he said.

Scott understood, deciding on his course of action. Or at least his course of action if Todd made the choice it seemed he was going to make. There was still something else he needed to confirm. Just how these mutants would react to Maria staying. The commotion coming from Healer's clinic however gave Scott the answers he needed. He rushed with Healer, throwing aside the curtains and seeing Maria suddenly get thrown to the floor. A pink haired girl was holding a knife to her throat. Except it wasn't actually a knife, but a piece of sharpened bone. Looking at the girl, Scott could see her obvious physical mutation. Bone plates extended from the right area of her jaw, plates had covered her forehead. She wore a green tank top and cargo shorts, showing off the bone plating on her knees. Bone spikes stuck out of her back and her arms.

"Sarah what are you doing?" Healer demanded.

Cyclops raised a hand to his visor. Suddenly, he felt a blade at his throat. It was attached to a tentacle of all things. He looked to where the tentacle had come from. She moved past the curtain, the tentacles that had replaced her arms shifting, one pair on her hips and another pair just resting at her side. Scott carefully lowered his hand, slowly turning to fully face the woman. She didn't look that much older than twenty one. Her dark hair was short and undercut, her fringe drifting to the side slightly. She was thin, but in an athletic way, her flat chest concealed by a white shirt and ripped leather jacket.

"Callisto, stop this now," Healer said.

Scott flinched, one of the woman's tentacles tracing across his cheek.

"Caliban told me what this one did for Sunder, but you know what we have to do to the human," she said, eyes glaring at Maria.

Looking from side to side, Scott took a deep breath, then he moved.

* * *

Gary Stewart's felt great. He felt better than he ever had before. Not just in his body, but his mood too. That serum had increased his speed, his durability, his stamina and even his determination. As he sparred with all four of his friends, he could sense what their next moves were going to be. He countered every punch, slipped out of every throw. His muscles were harder than they had ever been, and he was fighting better than he ever could. By the end of the match his friends were on the floor, panting. He accepted the applause of the other gym members, untying the bandages on his knuckles.

"You've never hit like that before, what happened?" Martin asked him.

"New diet and exercise plan, I'll introduce you to my trainer," Gary said.

They all asked him if he would do it for them as well. Gary smiled, but inwardly he doubted himself and the others. But not the incredible girl in the flower dress, she had changed his life. As he wiped the sweat off of his chest, he noticed a girl staring at him. She was in tight gym clothes that showed off her Kardashian figure. There was also a flirtatious smile on her face, one he couldn't help but return.

"Gary, can I talk to you for a moment?" Fayth asked.

"Sure thing," he put on his shirt and walked over to the sign in desk.

"Saw the fight," Fayth commented, looking at Gary as he signed out.

"How could you not," he said, grinning as he had since the girl in the flower dress helped him.

Fayth quieted down as the girl Gary noticed signed out. She made the effort of brushing against Gary. He sniffed her hair, something Fayth never knew him to do to girls he liked. The fact he was looking at a woman besides Elizabeth was uncharacteristic too. As Gary watched the girl go, Fayth looked into his eyes, they weren't diluted but there was something very different about them.

"What are you on?" she asked him, once the door had closed.

"Excuse me!"

Gary's grin had faded, replaced by an indignant look.

"You took on four guys, Martin's always been better at grapples than you, Tim's twice your size and you've never reacted that fast," Faith explained.

"I get it, you're threatened, afraid I'll take the club leader spot from you, well don't worry, I'm reaching for higher things," Gary huffed as he moved to the door.

"Techniques for detecting doping have gotten much better Gary, if you try it, you'll be shamed forever!"

Gary ignored the girl, moving through the door and lifting his bag over his shoulder. He came to a stop as the dark haired girl from before walked up to him.

"I hope we meet at the dance tonight," she said.

"Me too, Tanya right?"

"Tanya, Gary?"

"Gary."

They shook hands, the scene not going unnoticed by a pair Gary didn't recognise. The two certainly weren't students. As Tanya walked away, they walked towards him.

"Gary Stewart's? Hank McCoy, this is Bobby Drake, we're students of the Xavier academy in Westchester," the shorter, but bulkier one said.

"Xavier academy, what kind of aca..." Gary paused, feeling his phone vibrate.

He looked at it and saw _Flower girl_ : _they're MRD, do not trust'._ Knowing it was from his guardian angel, he put the phone back in his pocket, a slightly panicked expression crossing his face.

"I'm sorry, a family emergency came up," he rushed off before the two boys could speak again.

Hank and Bobby watched him leave, both frustrated by the lack of progress in their mission. They just hoped the dance tonight would turn up more answers. Before they could make any move, Hank's phone rang.

"Hank here," he said.

"Hank McCoy?"

"That's right, who is this?" Hank asked.

"I'm Emma, the Professor can't come to the phone right now, but he needs your help, or rather Angel needs your help!"

Next Chapter 7: Defenders

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

The Morlocks: Great characters of the X-men law, particularly eighties era. I thought of them having this deeper history as a sanctuary for people who were considered different, before they became an exclusively mutant society. Annalee I took an original approach of changing the gender and making him a cross dresser, but with the deeper issue of his gender identity. Healer I kind of mixed with another X-character famous for healing.

Spike and Marrow: Two very similar but different characters, Marrow being the older character first introduced in comics, Spike/Armadillo being based on the character seen in X-men Evolutions, though he won't have the same origins or family background.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 7: Defenders

Sven looked up, his vision beginning to clear. He could hear ringing in his ears, but feel a warm touch on his face.

"Come on, come on, try to wake up," he could hear the woman looking down at him.

She helped him onto his feet, draping his arm over her shoulder. He looked back towards the demon truck, someone was literally holding it back. The man was tall, not a giant or some hulking monster. His yellow shirt fit tightly on his muscular arms. The man's cheap shoes dug into the road, forming indentations. Astonishingly, he held the shovel of the truck with his bare hands, hands that weren't cut

"We need to move now," the woman said.

The woman was strong, not superhumanly so, but her voice had that odd mix of compassion and authority. Whatever she would say, when the situation called for it, was what a person needed to hear. Her companion pushed at the truck, lifting the shovel, and then he rushed forward. Digging his nails underneath the truck, he flipped it in a burst of incredible strength. He clapped the dust off of his hands and huffed. Suddenly, a wrecking ball slammed into his side, launching him across the street.

"No," Sven whispered.

"Don't worry, Luke can take it," the woman said.

She moved Sven towards one of the alleyways, showing no fear as the second demon truck swung its wrecking ball towards them. Sven's vision blurred slightly as a short man, in a green button up shirt stepped in the way. The man tightened a brown cloth over the top of his head, the end pieces of it fluttering like a martial arts head band. He brought his hands together, bowed as the wrecking ball came towards him. Then in a flash of speed, he slammed his fist into the ball. Yellow energy surged through the wire, directly into the demon truck.

A horrifying scream echoed in the sky, matching the expression on the demon truck. It was as if a second great cataclysm was occurring on the street, a great wind blew only in that area. The temperature dropped and rose up and a shockwave nearly knocked Sven and the ones who helped him off balance. Something rose from the truck, like a great mist, shaped like a man in immense agony. The woman supported Sven against the wall, checking the cut on his forehead.

"Whatever hit you knocked you out, you should go to the hospital," she told him.

"I'm fine, thank you for helping me," Sven said.

"I would take Claire's advice kid," Luke said, stepping into view.

"Wow, you got sent flying by a wrecking ball, you must have really tough skin," Sven's hurt tone had been replaced by a voice of amazement.

"Oh you have no idea," the masked man said, walking to Luke's side.

"Anyway, thank you for the help, I'll be going now," Sven said, shaking his head as his vision blurred.

"Not so fast, you need to rest and take it easy, wait for the ambulance," Claire said.

"Ambulances, oh no the others," Sven gasped.

"They're already dead," Luke said.

Sven leant against the wall, shuffling towards the street. He looked at them, all those crushed by the demonic truck. There were still people nursing wounds, people calling out for help. His hand shook in fear, wondering if it was his fault, if it had happened because he dug into things. He looked at the building he had come from, that had been reduced to mere rubble. Whatever the demon was, its goal had been to destroy the evidence, his life was secondary. Everyone else had just been caught in the crossfire.

"No," he whispered.

"What happened here?" Luke asked.

"I just wanted answers," Sven said.

Luke put a hand to his chin, thinking for a moment. Sven noticed his eyes were quite judgemental. He was already placing blame on him, even if he didn't truly mean it. The man's friend however was already helping people, moving those who could be moved to the side walk, checking the conditions of the others.

"Do you know anything about first aid?" Claire asked him.

"CPR, the recovery position, what to do when someone's choking," Sven listed.

The boy was still speaking as if he was in shock.

"All right," Claire took him by the shoulder and onto the streets. "You can help me, do you know where that thing came from?"

"No," Sven said.

"Then that's all you'll need to say to the police if they ask, just come with me and do what I say, we're going to help these people," Claire explained.

Luke and his friend were on rubble duty, helping others clear away debris and carrying wounded. To the paramedic's credit, it didn't take long for them to respond. Claire and Sven didn't even need to do a lot for the people. Watching the police and paramedics work reminded Sven of the cataclysm and its aftermath. Though these events were vastly different, the response of the authorities had been instant and inspiring. People helped one another, and the paramedics were amazing at their jobs. Luke, his friend and Claire turned out to be just ordinary people passing by. When they got a moment, they were able to get away from the inevitable TV crews. Before that though, Sven noticed a detective and a reporter. She was probably a Harlem born girl.

"Detective," one of the first journalists to arrive had a Brooklyn hint to his accent.

"You people get here pretty fast," the Detective said, crossing her arms.

"You know us blood sucking reporters, detecting scoops is like our super power. Eddy Brock, Daily Bugle, word over the radio is that this was a super human related incident, can you clarify if that's true?" the man asked.

"Initial statements reveal that this is a potential unexplained phenomenon, NYPD however will continue to investigate until evidence warrants a handover to the WDRA," the detective explained.

"Well that was a formally government sponsored building, so obviously the agency is going to take over regardless of evidence," Eddy muttered, before he walked away.

Sven noticed Luke's friend exchange glances at the detective. He nodded his head at her, and she winked at him. The wink elicited a smile from him, which made Luke roll his eyes slightly. They walked the streets before arriving at an apartment. Hesitantly Sven followed them up to the room. It was a cheap place, affordable, but not quite a home.

"Sit down, take off your jacket, Danny, get me a glass of water, Luke, the pain killers are in the top cabinet," Claire explained.

She took off her jacket and retrieved a bag from her kitchen. Putting on a pair of gloves, she also removed a small torch and flashed it in front of Sven's eyes. She moved her finger, checking his ability to track it.

"Does that hurt at all?" she asked, running her hands through his scalp.

There was some blood on her fingertips, but Sven shook his head in response. The newly named Danny placed the glass of water a short distance from Sven.

"Try to reach for the water," Claire asked.

Sven did so, taking the glass and tilting the contents down his throat.

"Well you've got no problem with distance, reaction time was a little slow, you drew blood and you've still got a bit on there," Claire stated as she began cleaning the top of Sven's head with a swab.

"I wanted to go back but, I hesitated," Sven lowered his head, rubbing his hands together.

"You thought you could save someone when you were too busy saving yourself," Claire said.

"I just froze," tears were in Sven's eyes.

"There is a certainty that if you had turned back, you'd be dead now," Luke said.

"Who are you guys?" Sven asked.

"The Night Nurse, Power Man, and I'm the Immortal Iron Fist," Danny said, causing Luke to moan and Sven to look at him in awe.

"Claire Temple, I work the night shift," Claire stated, placing a plaster on top of Sven's head.

"If I pull this off will I get a bald spot?" Sven asked and Claire shook her head.

"The name's Luke Cage, not Power man," Luke shot a look at Danny, making his head sink down.

"Are you a cop?"

"Used to be a beat cop, got accused of some stuff I didn't do, did my time and now I help people. Mr immortal here is (just to clarify he is not immortal) has never worked a day in his life..."

"That isn't true, I worked a lot in K'un Lun," Danny said.

"Please don't ask what Kun Lun is," Claire muttered.

"What's Kun Lun?"

"Oh god, the point is Danny is rich but he wants to do more than run a company, so he helps me on the streets," Luke explained.

"I see, I'm Sven."

"What were you doing in that building Sven?" Luke asked.

"Looking for answers to questions that are mine to answer," Sven said as he stood up.

"Well there were people that died there today who could have had answers too. People who got hurt, or lost loved ones who deserve answers too," Luke sounded calm, his tone that of a lecture and intent to help.

They were offering him help, but remembering those people caught in the crossfire made Sven regret it. He picked up his jacket and putting it on, checking the pocket for the disc.

"I'm sorry about what happened, and I'm grateful, that detective from earlier was with the 29th precinct right?" Sven asked.

"Her name is Misty Knight," Danny said.

"Seriously?" Sven's eyes nearly popped out, his tone almost became squeaky as he chuckled. "That's an awesome name!"

"She'll expect answers," Luke said.

"I know and I promise I'll give them to her," Sven brushed his eyebrows, stumbling slightly.

He bumped into Luke, apologising and assuring the man he was fine. When he was out of the door, Luke and Danny both exchanged glances.

"I think we're going to be seeing him again," the Iron Fist said.

"Don't need to be a detective to figure that out, but we are going to need a detective for figuring out what's on..." Luke paused, checking his pockets. "Wait a minute, I swiped the disc in his pocket but...oh that son of a..."

* * *

"BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!"

He was screaming. Not at the top if his lungs, he had no lungs after all.

"Bastard Chi user, how did an American end up becoming the Iron Fist?" the demon asked, floating through the hideout.

It was a rundown apartment complex. A place for the lost and 'those who didn't want to be found'. Evil men and women whom partook in the art of modern slavery. At the moment, poor girls doped saw the ghostly apparition of the demon and were dismissed because of the drugs they had been put on. The ghostly form quivered as a man in a red trench coat walked towards him. He had white streaks in his red hair and was holding a rolled up news paper. Though the drugged victims were afraid of the ghost, they were terrified of the man. They saw a silhouette around him, that of a red skinned demon in a cloak.

"Now, now demon, let us not get stereotypical, you don't have to be Asian to be a good fighter and I'm sure Lei Kung isn't picky about students. You destroyed the building, that is a lot of evidence buried, and particularly if the police and the agency don't know what to look for. As for the boy well, my daughter has been wanting to make friends," the man in the red coat said.

As he spoke a red haired girl appeared behind him, showing a disdain over the treatment of the women.

"Can I keep his soul?" she asked.

"Darling you can do whatever you damned well want to him," the man in the red coat smirked as he clicked his fingers and both demonic entities disappeared.

* * *

"Peter, Peter, wake up Peter," his vision began to clear.

And the first thing he saw was George Stacy's disapproving look. Peter groaned as he got off of the floor, seeing the mask in George's hand.

"Teleporter, felt like my body was scrambled like eggs," Peter muttered.

"That would be Wraith, X-force member, the MRD's personal capture squad for the mutants they can't get into custody," George said.

"Oh no, the kid is he..."

"Tolansky got away, but someone shot his mother, and the Angel has been captured. Last I checked they were heading towards south side, you could catch them if you haul ass," George explained.

"I don't know what to say, thanks," Peter said.

"If you want to thank me, give her a call, she misses you Peter," George said.

His voice wasn't that of the captain, or the lecturing senior he had been moments ago. To Peter, he sounded like what he was to him, the father of the woman he loved. Peter nodded his head, taking the mask and putting it on.

"Oh, one more thing, hit me," George commanded.

"Well that will do wonders for my reputation!"

"Better your reputation than my job."

Peter sighed before punching George across the face. Light enough not to damage him, but firm enough to make it seem as if he had knocked him out. As George called his 'escape' in, Peter began web swinging as fast as he could. He ran and jumped over the rooftops, then swung between them. He could hear the sirens behind him, one of them obviously George. 'Pursuing' him as payback. But they could also potentially act as added distractions for the MRD.

'Feels like years since we talked,' Peter thought about him, and that inevitably led to him thinking about her.

A blonde haired girl, beautiful, smart and passionate, definitely George Stacy's daughter. The loving kisses they used to share, then that one parting kiss.

'Gwen, I hope you're finding happiness in London,' he landed on a rooftop, expanding his vision to the roads.

He could see them, 'feel' them in a way with his spider sense. As well as acting as an instantaneous warning sense, Peter could use it to a degree for tracking people. Peter focused on the MRD truck, one big enough to hold someone with a wing span like Angel's. Applying webbing to his armpits, Peter formed a type of make shift wing suit. Then he dived, the wind carrying him on a path that would flank the MRD transport. People looked up in the sky in awe at the 'flying' Spider-man.

"Someone's played Far Cry," a pedestrian muttered.

Spider-man focused his lenses, 'targeting' the van. With his extensive knowledge of current tech, Peter identified the vehicle. It was designed to take punishment, but the vehicle itself wasn't unstoppable.

'Need to strike the exact point, time it just right,' he pulled up, ripping his wings up and curling in midair.

Using webs he fired at the buildings either side of him, Spider-man slingshot himself towards the van. He slammed his feet into the van. Hard enough to make it topple onto its side. Still attached to the side of it, Peter rode the vehicle as it slid across the road and onto the pavement. People were still on the streets, but the road themselves were clear. He ripped at the door, spider sense blaring as gunfire erupted. The MRD agents had opted to using their guns first thing, so Peter jumped back onto the side of the vehicle. He waited, keeping his web shooters ready as the MRD agents began to come out.

"Thank you for conveniently lining yourselves up, pop, pop, pop," Spider-man said as he fired a web into each of the men as they came out. "Pop, RELOAD!" he made a clicking sound as he replaced a web cartridge, rolling to the bottom of the vehicle and pulling another guard's gun out of his hand. "I'm kidding, I never really liked those games, have it back," he swung on the string, hitting the man with the gun.

"I always preferred Platformers," he jumped onto the van again, kicking the driver as he tried to get out with his rifle.

"Yo Angel, I'm here to rescue you, I mean in the few minutes we knew each other our chemistry was so great we might be the next Poe and Finn," Peter jumped to the back of the vehicle and looked inside.

To find no Angel in there.

"Okay, this is embarrassing," he muttered.

* * *

Further down the road

"Are we sure about this plan Beast?" Bobby asked.

"So long as you concentrate and get across the road quickly Bobby, the MRD convoy has increased its overall speed," Hank said.

They were both on separate ends of the street, or rather, Bobby was making his way across another end of the street. Both had hoods over their faces and their masks on. On the other side of the street, Emma was standing at the ready.

"Your disguise is rather ill suited," Hank said across the radio.

She was wearing an expensive fur coat, with a hood that obscured much of her face.

 **"When we're finished you'll be dropping it of course Emma,"** Xavier conveyed.

'It isn't even real, or legally bought I might add,' she thought.

They had no idea where Xavier was. Which was the point, Charles was shielding his presence from everyone on the street. At the same time he had to keep people moving, disinterested in the activities on the road. Bobby was moving across the road, forming frost on it. The exact amount of frost it would take to cause a flip if the driver lost control of the vehicle. Charles would handle the loss of control part, then the pedestrians.

"Are you sure about this Emma?" Hank asked.

"It will be difficult, but I want to do my part to prove myself. Besides, being able to beat on the MRD is good motivation," Emma grinned.

 **"We're here to rescue Warren, not engage in revenge. Now try not to talk, Sage, how are things over there?"**

Across New York, in Westchester, Sage was tracking the MRD vehicles and updating Charles through telepathy. At the same time, the founder of the X-men seemed to also be standing alongside Jean, supported by his crutches.

"So this is the secret," she said to him.

 **"I don't need to read your mind to know what this looks like Jean, a private army, a vigilante group, perhaps worse than that, terrorism from a certain point of view,"** Charles stated.

Jean put her hands to her head, focusing her powers. She briefly appeared before Charles in New York, but was unable to hold the projection.

"I think this looks like you attempting to do something better than the MRD. Which is difficult in itself, this is a volatile situation, mutants want a better way. And if I can I want to help with that," Jean explained.

Charles smiled, finally seeing in Jean what he saw when they first met. A strong woman, gifted, passionate about her beliefs and her friends and willing to fight for them. The perfect candidate and representative of his X-men.

 **"Take a breath Jean, close your eyes, breath and think of Henry, Bobby, Warren and Emma. Reach out with your mind, picture a chain between them, no, a link. They are not bound together, they are linked, by a mutual goal and a mutual mission. Focus on maintaining a link between them, helping them to share smells, sounds and sights,"** Charles explained.

Jean did as he said as he said it. Her mind's eye slid to Henry. She saw from him a multitude of works from Shakespeare, an impressive knowledge of science and a history of a loving family that cherished his passions. But also self doubt, and a fear of himself and what he might become. Then she slid to Bobby and felt confidence, humour and a need to prove himself. But that need was stifling, he was in a way his own worst enemy. Briefly she saw his affection for a girl he was nearly arrested for protecting, a girl the poor boy didn't fully accept had been afraid of him. On top of that was a dismissal of his own potential, a hatred of what he was. Then envy, of his own brother, someone who embraced what made him 'different' from others. Emma was closing her mind off, all Jean could read from her was the blurb of her life. Rich parents who made her compete with her two sisters, a brother she looked up to for rejecting his parents and embracing his sexuality, a desire to excel and a hatred of the way the world was.

 **"That's it Jean, now, form the link!"**

"They're coming Charles," Sage said.

Jean gasped, nearly overwhelmed by her powers. She could see through the eyes of Bobby, Hank and Emma. The boys threw aside their coats and Emma ripped some of her clothes off. In her mind, Jean heard her intentions, men found her body distracting. The MRD vehicles slid, the drivers subtly instructed to turn the wheels. One after another the MRD vehicles toppled to the floor. Then the X-men rushed forward.

'Focus, focus, shift the carbon in your skin to just the right density,' Emma urged herself.

Her skin began to shine, turning from flesh, to hard granite. Then, it turned white and became as hard and as beautiful as diamond. Jean felt the link between them waver, but not cut completely. Emma charged into the MRD soldiers as they came out of their trucks. She was nimble, angry and she knew how to throw a punch. Any greater skill the MRD soldiers had in unarmed combat was nullified by how devastating Emma's diamond skin made her punches. A couple of soldiers switched their guns to full auto and fired on Emma, bullets shattering on contact with her. She grabbed both men by their collars and yanked them against her head.

"Here I go, the Iceman cometh," Bobby declared.

He ran as fast as he could, sliding between the legs of MRD, freezing equipment both literal, and figurative. As they nursed what had bitten them, Bobby struck. He knocked them into the side of the van, or tripped them with ice. Touching the barrel of a man's rifle, Bobby poured the ice mist onto it until it shattered. Then as hard as he could, he punched the man, feeling his knuckle break on his jaw.

"Into the fray my friends," Hank said.

Amazingly Hank jumped and even bounced between MRD soldiers. His fists and feet threw them back with simple thrusts. Jean conveyed warnings to the team, and instantly they reacted. Emma threw a man at a guard who tried to shoot Bobby, whom froze another long enough for Hank to kick him in the stomach.

"I won't be IMPRISONED!" Warren yelled.

Warren, his mind was open to her now. He was in the link now. Thoughts of how much he cared for the group filled her mind. He acted tough, he acted antisocial, but he really did care. There was the same desperate need to prove himself that Bobby had. The same fear of himself that Hank had. The same loathing of his family name Emma had. Frost and Worthington, two rich families, that neither wanted to be a part of.

 **"We're causing a riot here, I'm manipulating the flow of the crowd to interfere with MRD reinforcements. You need to create an opening!"**

"I've got this Prof," Warren said.

He burst out of the van, throwing two guards aside with his wings. Swinging them, he again bashed aside two more guards. Emma joined him, tackling a soldier as Warren clothes lined him. Bobby and Hank ran to Emma and Warren, the latter flapping his wings and hovering off of the ground. Seeing through their eyes, the eyes of her team mates, Jean saw the recovering soldiers, and the crashed vehicles. She focused, reaching out through her team mates, taking a hold of the vehicles.

"I can do this," she whispered. "I CAN DO THIS!" she yelled, eyes glowing orange as she pulled and pushed.

The vehicles suddenly moved, hitting some guards and blocking others. They had been positioned in such a way, that it gave the X-men a convenient path to the alleyways, where Charles waited on his wheelchair.

 **"Jean's given you all an opening, now to me my X-men!"**

They broke off into a run, Warren swooping down towards Charles.

"That's our Marvel Girl, great job," Bobby said, seeing that Jean had also blocked the path behind them.

The soldiers would have to climb over the vehicles, and that gave the X-men enough time to retreat. Emma shifted her skin back to her normal density, sweat running down it as she took the coat Charles offered her. The X-men continued running, making their way through the alleyways. Suddenly, a blast flew into their path. Jean screamed, feeling her link being severed, cold sweat running down her body.

"I lost them," she said.

"They're still alive, take a moment to recover, get your blood sugars up and then try again," Sage instructed her.

In New York however, the X-men faced something that X-51 watched as well. Unbeknownst to them it was an important moment in their lives, and the lives of the rest of humanity. They faced a nine foot tall, for a lack of a better term robot. It had red armour across its body, rotating gears on its legs were exposed, and its head had a blank, yellow face.

"Target, mutants, cease and desist, or be destroyed!" the robotic Sentinel threatened, before raising its hand.

* * *

Scott felt Healer's hand on his and for a moment, he felt sick. The man had his other hand raised, and both Marrow and Callisto were on their knees. The latter had black veins, whilst Marrow was vomiting bile out of her mouth. Healer lowered his hand, and the symptoms stopped, but both women were exhausted from the experience.

"Enough, we will not attack people here," he said.

"Damn it, you bastard Healer, he'll bring the surface down on us," Callisto said.

"I won't, listen I have no interest in bringing any harm to your community or exposing them. If Todd wants to stay he can, if he wants to come with me he can. I am not here to force him or manipulate him, and quite frankly neither should you," Scott explained.

"Well said," Healer smiled as he patted his shoulder. "Don't try it again Callisto, don't you see that this young man isn't your enemy?"

"I see someone in a mask, a type of uniform, which means he's answerable to some kind of authority. I will never trust someone who doesn't even answer to himself," Callisto explained.

"I just wanted to make sure Todd and his mother were all right," Scott retorted.

"Really and as soon as you're back on the surface, you're just going to omit the fact that you saw us?" Marrow asked.

"The man I'll tell wishes you no harm, if anything he'll want to help, and not everyone's version of help is like yours," Scott stated, making the two women snarl at him.

"You know, from where I'm standing, Cyclops's offer is looking a lot better than yours," Todd said.

"No, you should be here," Callisto said.

"That's it, I 'should' be here, I'm grateful that you've helped me, I really am, but you guys have some serious issues with trust here. You threatened my mother, you guys must have been here for a long time because you would have had to think that I'd stay after you had done that. Healer and Cyclops have at least offered me a choice," Todd explained.

"After this I don't to stay either," Maria said.

"And you shouldn't have to, not whilst these two continue to apply compassion only to mutants. This community was not originally formed by mutants remember," Healer cast a strong look at the pair.

Marrow lowered her head, whilst Callisto kicked a box aside in frustration. Healer turned to Maria, checking the cut on her neck. His hand glowed as he traced it along the cut, causing the flesh to softly fuse together.

"We aren't better than the surface, we're far from perfect, but we are trying like the surface are," Healer stated.

"So we're allowed to go?" Cyclops asked.

"We aren't soldiers or murderers, and we can't keep people prisoner so there is only one thing we can do. Let you make your choice and hope that it is the right one for us as well as you," Healer explained.

"I'll only tell my leader, believe me when I tell you he'll make the right choice as well," Scott said and smiled as he shook Healer's hand.

Callisto grit her teeth together as Scott and the Tolanskys walked away. She despised people who followed an authority, Cyclops included. That also accounted for most humans from the surface. No matter how much she disagreed with Healer's decision though, she couldn't rebuke it. Out of all Morlocks, he was the wisest of them, the one who always knew what the right thing to do was. When Callisto and others abandoned their original names, Healer didn't discourage them or try to change them. He had also helped them to learn control of their abilities, something many of the Morlocks needed. She retreated to her area, where her things were. Magazine photos and articles were spread out across it, reminded Callisto of a beauty she had as a model.

"Caliban is showing them the way, and I've diverted some of the soldiers searching for them," a voice said from the curtain.

He emerged from them, appearing more beautiful to Callisto than much of what she had see in the world.

"Evan, Healer's choice will have consequences," she said.

"I agree, but they don't have to be bad, you should have told me how you felt about Todd's mother being here," Spike said to her, walking up behind her.

One of her tentacles instinctively brushed against his cheek, drawing him in a little closer.

"You wouldn't have agreed," she said.

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't help our leader," he retorted.

She twisted her head back, kissing him and smiling, something she only did for him.

"We have to protect them," she said.

He nodded his head, gripping her tentacle as if touching her hand.

"No matter what," he whispered.

* * *

Sven honestly felt bad about stealing from Luke Cage. Even if Cage did steal from him first. Finding a computer in New York wouldn't be difficult, what would be difficult however was finding one that would take an old disc. It turned out there was one closer to Hell's kitchen, inside a church. The father would let people check their emails there. Sven had something different to check, so the lie was another thing he felt badly about. The disc loaded up fairly quickly, bringing up a window on the screen that showed a word document and an Excel file. Sven opened both and met another frustrating snag. Certain parts of both had been blacked out.

"Redacted, redacted," Sven muttered and then read the lines that were available on the document.

 _'Proposal for project [redacted] by [redacted]_

 _'In attendance are director of [redacted] and financers [redacted] and [redacted]. Proposal is as follows:_

 _There are worlds beyond ours and between ours. Dimensions that have been referred to as, or inspired the legends of ancient mythology, fantasy and even biblical stories. This aspect of project [redacted] involves the drawing and charging of runes that may be capable of forming bridges between two points._

 _Physicist and scientific advisor [redacted] refers to this method of travel as 'a Bifrost'. Certain things however have been known to prevent the summoning of a Bifrost. Case in point being the cell containing Subject Beta in [redacted]. Through mastery and modernisation of this method, we believe we will immensely improve defence spending on troop transports, the delivery of disaster relief and the response time of emergency services. To achieve better understanding of the runes and the method to summon them, I believe it is necessary to interrogate Subject Beta. Failing that, [redacted] should be interviewed._

 _As well as short term benefits, I believe this part of the project will prove vital in the mass transport of...'_

The rest of the document had been blacked out. Sven opened his email account, attached the files to a new email and sent it to his contact.

'Need some light shined on the dark parts, find someone you can trust to do it. Send to new address at an extremely late numbered sequel,' he then hit send, knowing that his contact would get the clue.

Once the email was sent, he deleted his account versus13 and took the disc out of the drive. Sven picked up his jacket and checked over his shoulder. He doubted anyone would be after him, but it was always best to be cautious. Just as his teacher always taught him, have eyes on the back of your head, but don't make it obvious you were looking for something. Don't act casual, but be casual, you can still notice things when you aren't looking so long as you still know what to look for. Sven noticed it, or rather he noticed her. He didn't take a second look, but he knew she had brown hair and was wearing a baggy grey hoodie, big enough to hide her hands. When you're being tailed, it was important to not let the person tail you know that you knew they were tailing you. Sven had no idea whether she knew, but he was doing his best not to make it obvious. He didn't know specific details about her face because he didn't look at her for more than a couple of times. Looking at her more than twice or three times was a dead giveaway. But he knew enough details to know that a specific person might be tailing him. She had been in Harlem and had been at the deli where Sven got his lunch. Twice was coincidence, three times might be forgiven. Sven just had to create a fourth instance in which it could be proven without reasonable doubt that she was following him.

'How to do this, how to do this?' Sven wondered.

He walked out of the cafe, not turning to the newspaper stall she was looking at. After taking a few paces, he turned into the alleyway. When the girl turned, he was gone. She ran down the alleyway, thinking he had ran away. But somehow he had disappeared within the crowds of New York walkers. She returned to the centre of the alleyway, her gloved fingers rubbing her brow. Suddenly, there was a bang on the trash bin behind her. Sven threw the lid open and let out a deep breath.

"Hi, thanks for proving me right, and sorry about the smell," he said.

* * *

Gary looked at himself in the mirror. His body looked better than it ever had. It looked as if the god's had forged it, and he was both proud and amazed by that. But his mind had also been expanded. Knowledge of the past, and of the future. He knew exactly who he could be, an image of it formed in his mind's eye and he smiled in absolute joy. Gary raised his arms and closed his eyes. The power inside him rose, seeping out of his pores. The once disgusting, bile like substance was gold and beautiful now. It spread across his body, shaping into a form that would be beyond godly, a form of the future. When the girl in the flower dress walked into his room, she looked at him in awe.

"Go," she whispered to him. "Be what I know you can be!"

He opened the window and flew to his destiny. Behind the girl with the flower dress, another man with his hands in his pockets watched. He smirked, knowing full well what was destined to happen to the boy. The girl turned towards him, taking a vial out of her pocket.

"He's given us one part of the puzzle," she said.

"Good, but it isn't complete yet," he said.

"What about him?"

The man smirked, continuing to look at the vial, sloshing the fluid inside it around.

"Let him have his fun, we all know it won't end well for him!"

Next Chapter 8: Saviour

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time Spider-man joins the X-men in battling the Sentinel.


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

It has come a bit late, but RIP Stan Lee 28/12/1922-12/11/2018.

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 8: Saviour

Sven finally got a good look at the girl who had been trailing him. Sitting across from her, he could see the WDRA symbol on her hoodie. So either she was a fan who bought a hoodie online, or she was an agent. Removing her hood, she revealed her curly brown hair, which reached up to her neck. She was American, but there were subtle signs of her mixed Asian heritage. Looking at her hands touching her coffee cup, he saw her black gloves, but partially hidden by the sleeves was a pair of gauntlets.

"God, I can't tell you how much easier this feels now, and how awesome this is too," she said, exuding enthusiasm.

"Well it certainly is good to meet new people," Sven said, smiling himself.

"But we know each other, we've met before," she said.

"Have we?" Sven raised his eyebrows in confusion, sipping his tea.

"Yeah, man, it amazes me how much you look like your father."

Sven paused at that, leaning forward and looking at the girl.

"You knew my dad?" he asked.

"Knew him? We know each other Sven, although we only really met from a distance. Your dad and mine worked together," she said.

He continued to look at her in confusion. She slapped her forehead and laughed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself..."

"Daisy Coulson!"

Years ago she was a little girl, he was the little boy reading in his tree house. Slade Reilly picked up the daughter of fellow agent Phil Coulson, spun her around and roughed up her hair.

"Wow it's all over the place isn't it, you should have brought her round earlier Phil, how have you been?" Slade asked.

"Been great, Daisy, you know Sven's your age, how about you go and play with him," Phil gave her a little push, and she walked over to the tree house.

But she didn't climb up the ladder, instead she sat behind the tree and took out her phone. As she played games, the adults conversed at the barbecue Slade and his wife Lisa hosted. Their younger daughter Kate was holding Lisa's hand as she brought out one of the salads.

"Phil, great to see you, no wife yet?" she asked.

"No wife yet," Phil shrugged his shoulders, taking the salad and hugging her.

Sven remembered that day, looking at a few faces from the window. Phil Coulson, a numbers man from the agency. John Garret, a specialist who always smiled and laughed whenever Lisa scolded him. Ian Blake, an investigator who although seemed cold and distant always smiled for the children at least. Jasper Sitwell, plain looking but nice around people, an advisor and good at being a 'patsy' according to Slade. Melinda May, a specialist with a very sweet smile and laugh, Sven liked her and her husband. Then there was Arthur Caster, Slade's partner and best friend. He was at the barbecue, cooking the burgers and the kebabs. The brown haired man looked up at Sven, smiling as he waved to him.

Then he remembered the flames and rubble, the deaths caused by cataclysm. He remembered the numerous souls in need of saving, begging for someone to save them. But alas, he also remembered the bodies of those who weren't save. It was the cataclysm with but a single survivor. A boy who shouldn't have been able to be saved, but was. He remembered the face of Arthur Caster, looking down at him and smiling He remembered the tears that man shed and the thanks to god he gave. Something was started that day, and it began with a boy thinking:

'I want to be a hero too!'

'Hero,' Sven thought, looking at his hand.

Daisy too looked at him and noticed the calluses on it. The kind of scarring associated with fist fighters.

"What have you been doing Sven?" Daisy asked, leaning across the table and whispering to him. "As soon as you graduated from high school, you disappeared, a few part time jobs here and there and a visit to the hospital for what you had at the time described as a 'mutant attack'. Your arm had been broken and required severe surgery to repair the nerve damage, you were also put under psychiatric care for a time, you mother's ability as a guardian was put into question and..."

"My mom and sis hated me, they were never cruel enough to say it but I put them through that," Sven said, interrupting Daisy.

"Why did they hate you Sven, what did you do? What are you trying to do now?" Daisy asked.

Sven looked at Daisy, his gaze shifting to over her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes, seeing two others sitting behind them. One was looking over his shoulder.

"Just leave me alone all right, tell your dad I said hi though," he said.

He stood up and waved at the people sitting at the table.

"Better luck next time!"

The pair shook their heads, taking their ear pieces out as Sven walked past them.

* * *

Downtown New York

The X-men looked up at the new arrival, the robotic Sentinel. Named after the guardians of the citadel, it stood over the mutants and raised its hand.

"There's no mind behind it, that doesn't mean there isn't a consciousness controlling it from far away," Charles said.

"Or it could be operating under an advanced AI, that head certainly looks big enough to store a super computer?" Hank explained.

"You'd better diamond up again," Warren said to Emma.

"It drains my stamina, unless you want me turning into charcoal I won't be able to use my powers for a while," she retorted.

"Those gears on the legs look vulnerable," Bobby said.

He threw his hands forward, spraying an ice mist over the Sentinel's leg joints.

"Hostile action, engaging elimination protocols," the Sentinel said.

It fired a blast from its hand, and Hank dived at Bobby, knocking him out of the way. Beast then jumped up, carrying Bobby over his shoulder.

"The alloy they're using must be resistant to the cold," Hank noted, rebounding off of a fire escape and launching himself onto a rooftop.

Warren picked up Emma and flew upwards, Charles himself rolled between the Sentinel's legs, avoiding its hand. Despite disliking his wheelchair, he was well practiced at manoeuvring with it. His physiotherapist one suggested he try out for the Olympics, and though in the past Charles would have been for the idea, his mission was too great to allow for that kind of distraction.

'If only you could see me now Amelia,' he thought.

Turning the corner in the alleyway, Charles accessed the minds of others on the street. They were beginning to clear it, looking up at the robotic Sentinel and fearing the worst. It climbed onto the rooftops, chasing after Bobby and Hank. Beast jumped onto another rooftop, Bobby squealing in delight on his shoulder. The boy found the experience fun and even Hank had a smile on his face. Warren and Emma however were both much more serious, regarding the situation with the same caution Charles had seen during his days in the UN. Rolling onto the street until he became part of the crowd, Charles focused with his telepathy, broadened his range and searched for a blind spot.

'Such a machine would still require a crew to monitor it and conduct field repairs,' Charles thought.

He narrowed the search to an area his powers could not perceive. Not without 'hijacking' the eyes of passersby. A cargo truck, located roughly ten blocks away. Whatever alloys were used in its construction blocked Charles's powers. He could not determine what machines or crew inside the cargo area and there was no driver. Certain metals could block Charles's abilities.

 **"Angel, drop Emma into the streets and go to where I tell you, we may be able to disrupt the machine, Hank, Bobby, continue to distract it,"** Charles commanded with his telepathy.

"No problem there Prof," Bobby said, hitting the Sentinel in the face with another ice mist.

The Sentinel fired another blast, this time hitting the roof and dropping Beast and Iceman into the building. On the streets, Stryker slammed the door shut on his car, looking up at the Sentinel as it rammed its hand through the hole in the building it made.

"Damn it, what the hell is going on here, the Sentinel was not approved for deployment," he said.

Wraith and Maverick both exited the vehicle behind him and exchanged worried glances.

"We have mutant operatives on the field, I repeat we have mutant operatives on the field," Stryker shouted into his comm.

"Calm down Stryker, did you think I wouldn't include an IFF into my design?" a voice asked over the radio.

"Trask," Stryker snarled.

Inside the very truck Charles had identified a moment ago, a white haired man in a goatee stood with an MRD vest on his business clothes. He was looking through video feeds of the Sentinel, and at monitors showing the integrity of his creation.

"Anyone in an MRD uniform is exempt from the Sentinel's targeting systems," Trask said, pride in his voice.

Unknown to the great inventor though, Charles Xavier could 'hijack' more senses than eyesight. He turned into an alleyway, rolling until he reached a portion occupied by the homeless. Altering their perceptions to make himself look like one of them, Charles focused on contacting the X-men.

 **"Warren, a change of plans, go back to where we had our earlier battles,"** and an ally that Charles knew would come in handy. **"Spider-man!"**

"AGH!" Peter yelped in mid swing, falling onto a rooftop vent. "What? God is that you?"

 **"Spider-man, you may call me Professor X, my team and I will need your assistance, please listen carefully."**

* * *

Tony Stark entered his run down motel room and looked at his flask. The motel was upmarket enough to fill the fridge with mini beer cans. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, drink was not something he needed right now. Filling his flask with water, he took a few swigs. It still carried the taste and smell of vodka in it. He didn't bother cleaning it out because of those precious smidges of flavour that he savoured.

'Just a little bit won't hurt,' he thought.

He crashed his bottom onto the sofa, throwing his arms onto the back of it and leaning back. Beside him sat his 'last' invention. Soon he'd begin his plans for his future, his last bit of planning before he intended to stay out of the world's way. The suitcase was red, metallic and heavy, big enough to exercise Tony's arms, but not to strain in his heart. He rubbed the spot on his chest and reached for the TV remote.

 _"News just in, a fire started two hours ago in a building owned by the Hardy foundation, the cause is unknown but the fire itself has spread to several other buildings. Additional emergency services have however been delayed due to the MRD cordons set up in response to the mutant incident,"_ Tony paid no attention to the mutant part.

His focus was on the Hardy building, he knew Anastasia Hardy. Stark industries had won the 'charitable organisation of the year' award (the true award was a name Tony never cared to remember at the time) over the much smaller Hardy foundation. Anastasia was rich enough to live the high life and pay her employees, and the foundation was big enough to known in science magazines, but hadn't released revolutionary patents like Stark I or Oscorp. Tony focused on the fire and the lives of citizens endangered by whatever shortcuts that Anastasia had probably taken (or to be fair hadn't known had been taken). He put on his suit case, pocketed his flask and picked up his suitcase. On his way to the door, he got a beer from the fridge. Leaving his key and cash payment at the front desk, he lightly jogged to the back of the motel. Pouring the contents of the can down his throat, Tony enjoyed the acidic sensation in his throat, the sweet taste and refreshment of his mouth. He tossed the can aside and held out his suitcase. The scanner in the handle read his palm and began the sequence.

The last creation, his greatest creation. It began to fold out of the suitcase, abandoning the handle, which Tony split into two, attaching each one to red bands on a pair of gloves. He inserted his hands into the gloves, then grabbed the main part of the suitcase. The front folded to reveal a glass circle on the chest and cargo pockets on the waist, and then the back expanded. Tony pushed the plate onto his chest and crotch, feeling the latches on his back fuse together. As this happened, metallic red boots slammed out of the case, each boot was either side of a helmet. Tony slid his feet into the boots, feeling them tighten around his shins. Gold pumps on the boots and gauntlets linked to pumps on his chest plate, enabling Tony to lift the heavy limbs, granting his exposed arms and legs some extra protection and increasing his strength. The arc reactor on his chest shined through the glass on his chest plate, powering the suit in its entirety. Magnets built into his finger tips reacted with the helmet between his feet, lifting it into his hands. The helmet was red, but the face plate was gold with slits for Tony's eyes and a mouth slit for him to breathe through. His last and greatest creation, the Iron man.

Rockets on his boots and backs ignited, allowing Tony to fly out of the neighbourhood. People looked up in wonder at the armoured hero Tony had become, ignorant to who was behind the mask. Tony revealed the Iron man was a company employee, a corporate bodyguard. It wasn't for any reason like protecting his loved ones from reprisal, but for himself. He wasn't looking for redemption, or to be called a hero. The world had falsely called him a patriot, awarding him with lifetime achievements, prizes he had given back after his experience in the desert. Within moments Tony reached the Hardy foundation fire.

'Identifying possible life sources,' he aimed his fingers at the buildings on fire.

One gauntlet held a motion tracked, the other a heart beat monitor. Linking a wire to his helmet, Tony determined from the heart beats a large number of survivors inside the building. He used the motion tracker to determine specific possible locations. Tony himself knew the type of buildings, he knew how much damage they could take. Flying straight through one of the buildings, he grabbed two people and flew them to the Ambulances.

"Officers, the west stairwell is the best possible place to access the building, some survivors are already exiting through that direction," he told one of the firemen.

Flying back into the building, Tony removed two devices from his belt, attached them to his gauntlets and then squeezed the handle triggers on them. Spinning in a wide arc, he fired a foam across the corridors. It suffocated the flames, and turned into a hard paste.

"Everyone, keep low and come out, go to the Western stairwell and do not stop to get anything," he broadcasted his voice with a speaker on his helmet, it also allowed him to distort his voice so that people wouldn't recognise him.

Iron man then flew out of the same window he had come through. A window would cost less than a roof that wasn't broken already. He planned each step, composed a rescue strategy, knowing the slightest miscalculation could get someone killed, or create more damages that would bankrupt some poor soul. Flying through another window, he opened a wardrobe, a hiding place for a couple kids. They were too young to be taught the dangers of hiding in such a place. Again Tony dropped them off at an ambulance and watched more fire fighters arrive. They were professionals, better trained than him, so Tony left them to it. He focused on the building they would let burn, the Hardy foundation building. It had insurance and there was no reason for the fire service to risk any lives. But Tony knew something they didn't, there was still someone in the building.

"HELP! HELP!" he could hear them as clear as day with his enhanced receiver.

Diving through the building, uncaring of the falling debris and the heat, he flew for the place the fire was at its hottest. It was also where the person was screaming. A young man, barely eighteen and screaming. Tony quickly noted the boy's skin pigmentation, bright orange, eyes clear. The young man was naked and frightened. Tony grabbed him, shielding him from the debris as he flew out of the building. The young man's temperature was still hot, and Tony could feel his skin heat up his armour. He dropped the young man on a nearby rooftop and sprayed him with extinguishing foam.

"Try to stay calm and tell me what happened," Tony said, looking at the young man.

He was probably just out of high school, far too young to get a job at the Hardy foundation. Tony landed by him, keeping his hands up diplomatically.

"It's all right kid, I'm not here to harm you," he said.

"Oh god, what did they do to me, what did they do?" the boy asked.

"Tell me your name kid, why were you here?" Iron man asked.

"Mark, my names Mark, I..." the boy never got to finish, as a disc shaped object slammed into his chest.

The young man screamed as electricity spread across his body. Tony traced the trajectory of the shot, just in time to dodge another projectile. It was an arrow, with the same kind of device attached to it that had latched onto Mark's chest. A type of EMP perhaps, suggested Mark's 'abilities' were related to tech. Perhaps nanites, though Tony knew of no kind of nanotech that was that advanced, that kind of tech was only possible in movies. After checking Mark's heart rate, Tony looked towards the rooftop opposite. No one was there, but to the right of that building stood a figure in dark clothing. They were dark purple, tactical clothing. The man wearing them had a tuft of blonde hair coming out of the top of his purple mask. Devices covered his ears, a form of hearing aid, and red lenses covered his eyes, to reduce glare. He had armoured padding on his wrist and knees and had his shoulders exposed. But it wasn't a rifle he was preparing, or even a pistol (Tony knew a few good long range pistols) but oddly a bow. The man had a quiver on his back and like Tony, a utility belt with devices he could put onto the arrow heads.

"Low tech huh? Easy to use and less likely to fail, I'm all for," Tony said.

The bowman quickly fired an arrow, ricocheting it off of a pipe and sending it flying towards Tony. He quickly dodged it, but as soon as Tony veered to the left, an arrow struck one of his leg motors, disrupting his connection to his boot. With his control momentarily lost, Tony slammed into the wall of the building opposite of the one Mark had landed on. The bowman began to tap the device on his ear.

"Acknowledged Hawkeye, moving in to secure asset," a voice spoke through his hearing aid.

Tony regained control of his boots and looked towards Mark. A woman in a black suit stood over the boy. She had covered her face with a black mask and a pair of goggles with three zooming lenses on them. A pair of devices consisting of multiple cartridges were wrapped around her wrists, and there was a type of red hour glass symbol on her belt buckle.

"Widow here, securing Molten man," the woman said, beginning to wrap a device around the young man's chest.

Iron man began flying towards her, arming his gauntlets with his repulsors. He fired a blast, but much to his shock the woman flipped, suddenly wrapping her legs around Tony's chest.

"Usually I buy dinner first," he quipped.

A blue light passed through the device on her wrist, before she stabbed it into Tony's neck. Tony gasped as it passed an electrical surge through his armour, and his heart. He fell to the floor, clinically dead. Widow stood over Tony's body, listening to her comm. as Hawkeye tapped his.

"You're right, the watcher might want him alive, " she activated her shock device again and struck Tony's chest plate.

It charged the armour, and restarted his heart. Tony gasped, regaining his bearings. He was still incapacitated, allowing Widow to activate the device on Mark's chest. A massive balloon expanded on the boy's chest, beginning to lift him off of the floor. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed in the neighbourhood, piercing through the balloon. In a building in the next block, an agent looked through the scope of his rifle.

"Ward here, I've prevented their extraction of the asset," the dark haired man said.

On the streets, amongst the emergency services, black government vehicles arrived. Garret of the WDRA stepped out of one of the vehicles and smirked.

"Our first team up with the Iron man, Ward, I'd pick up that rifle at get clear of that window now," the agent said.

"What? Are you worried about robin hood over there, his arrows won't reach me..." Ward screamed as an arrow flew into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall a foot away from him.

"Yeah, Barton's muscular arms aren't just for show, his bow isn't the average kind either. It takes immense strength to draw back that string, Tripplet, go and pick up agent dumbass, I'm moving to secure the target," Garret explained.

"Yes sir," another agent spoke over the radio.

Garret stretched his arms and then broke off into a run. Leaving a crack on the street, he jumped, high enough to dig his finger nails into the building and leap up onto the rooftop. Widow looked towards Garret, drawing a pair of pistols from her belt. She fired a flurry of bullets that Garret blocked with his hands. He moved towards Widow, attempting to punch her. As the woman rolled underneath his swing, he rolled out of the range of her attempted punch.

"Your little widows kiss won't work on me darlin," he taunted.

He tilted his head back, narrowly avoiding an arrow fired by Hawkeye. Recovering from his earlier attack, Iron man fired a repulsor and knocked Hawkeye onto his back.

"Nice shot, you ever think of switching to government work, the pensions worth it," Garret said.

"Sorry, but private is where the money is," Tony said.

He was still sweating underneath his helmet, but still able to put on some bravado. Garret attempted to strike Widow again, only for her to jump over him. Iron man fired a blast, hitting her in the chest and throwing her into Garret's arms.

"Caught myself a spider," Garret tilted his head in confusion for a moment. "You sure?" he seemed to be talking to someone. "Sorry about this lady, but I've got orders."

He began to tighten his grip, and Tony widened his eyes underneath his helmet. He could hear the woman's bone creaking. Garret was going to crush her. Tony was no stranger to bloodshed, he had thousands of deaths on his hands, and the handful of men he had personally killed himself. The woman had deliberately saved his life, that wasn't an action Tony was going to dismiss. Firing his repulsors, he knocked her and Garret back.

"Damn it, you really are an amateur," Garret growled.

Widow jumped off of the roof, firing a cable from her wrist and using it to swing onto the streets. She hit her belt buckle, suddenly disappearing.

"Light bending technology," Tony whistled in amazement.

"We have that and more at the WDRA," Garret huffed.

Tony turned to Mark as he heard the boy scream. He was gripping the sides of his head, rolling in agony as his skin began to glow again. Garret gulped before jumping off of the roof.

"YOU NEED TO GET CLEAR!" he yelled at Iron man.

Suddenly, the temperature around Mark increased, leading to combustion. He was knocked off of the roof, landing and burning a crater onto the road. Mark stepped out of the crater, his skin glowing orange and each step melting the road. Tony landed a few feet away from him, a crack across his helmet.

"Oh no," he was familiar with explosions, the chemical reactions and their early signs.

Mark's overall temperature was growing and would continue to grow. If Mark couldn't control himself, he could cause more than just a few building fires. A shadow suddenly appeared over Mark and the agents of the WRDA. Hawkeye narrowed his eyes at the object, tapping his comm. Behind him, X-51 watched and took a step forward, tempted to intervene.

"Remember my herald, we cannot interfere," Uatu's voice echoed in his mind.

The shadow had been followed by a light. A light that came from the gold armour of the being that Gary Stewarts had become. Behind him though were wings of darkness and blood, a parody of the purity his body was. He looked down at Mark, showing no sympathy for his fear.

"Your saviour has arrived," he proclaimed, before the darkness engulfed Mark.

* * *

Beast and Iceman were both kicking at the Sentinel's arm, desperately trying to slip out of its grip. Bobby fired more mist into the Sentinel's eyes. It disrupted its targeting systems, and obscured its gaze. This gave Hank and opening to jump off of the wall with all his strength, curling into a ball and slamming against the Sentinel's head. It knocked the robot back, making it stumble on the rooftops. Trask grit his teeth together in frustration and threw his arm forward.

"Just kill those mutants, worry about collateral damage later," he said.

"But sir, if the Sentinel program proves to be as dangerous to the public as mutants, we'll get shut down."

"Once the Sentinel's ability to kill mutants has been proven, it won't matter," Trask retorted.

He smirked in satisfaction as the Sentinel regained its eyesight, and looked down at Beast and Iceman. The Sentinel raised its hands, ready to blast them into oblivion. Trask's jaw dropped however, as a substance of some kind covered the Sentinel's main camera. Spider-man landed on the Sentinel's head, tapping it.

"Oh giant death robots just aren't what they used to be," he said, shaking his head. "Your boss man wanted you to have these, black isn't my colour anyway," he tossed to Beast and Iceman the objects that Xavier had asked him to retrieved.

Trask tapped his foot against the floor impatiently as the tech crews worked to regain control of the Sentinel. Using a few inputted commands, they had the Sentinel peel the webbing off of its face.

"Begin scanning for mutant activity," he commanded.

The Sentinel rotated its head, eyes and mouth blinking. Trask was surprised to see a no X-gene detection marker on Spider-man. The Sentinel left the masked vigilante be and continued the search for the mutant fugitives. There were two readings in the immediate area.

"What happened to the other two?" one of the crew asked, much to Trask's anger.

"Instead of asking obvious questions, FIND THE ANSWERS!" he yelled.

On the streets, Stryker watched four fully uniformed agents of the MRD walking past the cordons and smirked.

"Should we," Wraith began, but stopped as Stryker shook his head.

"If Trask wants to take over mutant response, then he can accept responsibility when mutants slip through our fingers. Besides, these people went out of their way to keep people safe. Right now at least, they aren't a threat...for now," Stryker emphasised and Wraith nodded his head in understanding.

Charles rolled down the street, taking a deep breath and sighing in relief. As he hoped, having his X-men put on MRD uniforms prevented them from being detected by the Sentinels. He had read certain details from Stryker's mind and believed that the soldier had allowed that information to be accessed. Will Stryker had a high resistance to telepathy, but Charles sensed at least good intentions from the man.

 **"Once you've reached a safe distance, abandon the uniforms, switch to your civilian clothes and meet at the safe house,"** Charles relayed to his X-men. **"Sage, I'm going into telepathic silence, I suspect they may have found a way to track my psychic waves."**

 **"As you wish Charles, I'll wait 2 hours before making telepathic contact again!"**

Feeling his old student psychic presence leave him, Charles continued to roll across the street. He had borrowed the coat of a fellow veteran he met in the alleyway, no telepathic convincing required. It obscured his uniform and allowed him to roll across the street without harassment. Looking at the path ahead, Charles blinked and narrowed his eyes, focusing on a person he could see in the distance. The man was wearing a red turtle neck and a brown jacket that clung to his muscular frame. Leather gloves covered his hands, and a fedora partly covered his face. When Charles got close enough, he could see the spots of white hair on his head.

A scream alerted Charles and he turned his head, seeing pedestrians running as fast as they could. One knocked him off of his wheelchair, and it was then that Charles became aware of why they were running. The Sentinel landed on the street and began making its way towards Charles. It raised its hand, the circle on the palm of it glowing. Charles braced himself, afraid only of his mission ending before it could begin. Then he heard a deep vibrating sound, followed by the creek of metal. The Sentinel's hand was suddenly crushed, and the Sentinel stepped back. Slowly, its head began to shrink, like watching a can being crushed in slow motion. It was as if a hand had formed over the Sentinel's head and squeezed until it was crushed completely. Charles looked towards the stranger, and saw that the man had raised his hand and formed it into a fist. He offered that same hand to Charles and revealed his face, a few yours older than Charles, hardened, but with a kind smile. The face of a man Charles knew before, and even called brother.

"Hello, old friend," said Max 'Magnus' Eisenhardt.

Next Chapter 9: Darkness

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, the debut of Iron man, Hawkeye and (obviously) Black Widow, as well as the reveal of Magneto.

Daisy Coulson: Daisy Johnson reimagined as the (adopted?) daughter of Phil Coulson, anyone who has watched the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. series knows the dynamic between these two characters. Visually of course she looks like Chloe Bennet, the actress who portrays her in AOS. In fact the whole interaction between Sven and Daisy was inspired by Bennet's great enthusiastic performance in her first dialogue scene in the series. She's a young agent, but still a fan girl who knows the history of the agency she works for and the famous figures in it, one being Sven's father.

Iron man: I wanted to go with a modern twist on the third Iron man armour, the thick boots and gloves, the chest plate and helmet, with the gold hydraulics on the arms and legs invoking images of the gold limbs on the classic armour. The suitcase part and the sequence of course coming from my first introduction of the character during the 90s animated series.

Hawkeye: Went with the Ultimate masked look, which I thought was badass. Also drawing on certain modern comics I made him deaf. But drawing on the classic comics he has trick arrows, and using information provided by 'Deathbattle' I wanted it to be quite clear Hawkeye uses a bow and arrow in a way no one else could.

Black Widow: Going with a classic look, but less provocative, attractive still but more functional. The movement and fighting style being inspired by Scarlett Johansson's stunt work.

Max Eisenhardt: Going with the less recognised real name in the comics, the look of course being the classic images of the disguised Magneto from sources like the 90's animated series and the X-men Evolution series.

Saviour: Gary Stewart's transformed state comes from his great desire to be the hero, and his own view of himself as the hero of the story (you guys must of course figured out the joke behind his name) with the dark wings a hint of the evil that's manipulating him, visually they're like the kagune of Tokyo Ghoul which I always find visually stunning and frightening at the same time.

Next time Sven's search for answers brings him into the path of the Saviour and a moment that will define him. And Max and Charles stop for tea (no, seriously that's what they'll do).


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 9: Darkness

Charles could smell the camomile in Max's cup of tea. He sipped his earl grey and sighed in ecstasy. Max too drunk his, but with less enjoyment. The white haired man's fedora hung off of his chair, alongside his coat. Both men drank as the waiter brought a muffin over for Charles and a packet of biscuits for Max.

"Thank you," Max smiled at her.

"How have you been old friend?" Charles asked him.

"As well as I can be, all things considered, I'd imagine the same is true for yourself Charles, although there is something very different about you," Max paused as he looked at Charles. "You seem less conflicted as you we before."

"And you seem less angry than before Magnus," Charles said.

"Anger is a tool for zealous fools, I have cleared my head of such things and now attend to matters of a more personal nature, at least for now," Max explained.

"Why have you come back to America?"

"For an old friend, not you Charles, this was coincidental," Max smirked at Charles's surprised expression. "I spent a few years in London, where I befriended a man called Mortimer Toynbee. His funeral was a couple of months ago, I've come to New York to fulfil a debt to Mr Toynbee, find his son...you wouldn't know anything about him would you?" Max's smile faded as he put his cup down.

The atmosphere shifted and Charles's felt the vibrations through the molecules. Displays on the cafe's computer flickered, their electromagnetic fields were being pulled upon. Then, an eerie sound of metal screeching outside, bikes, cars, some people in the cafe even felt their fillings move. Charles remained calm, matching Max's stare. There was no aggression, no spoken threat, but it was clear to Charles he needed to be careful with his answer.

"Mr Toynbee fathered his son with a woman called Maria didn't he?" Charles asked.

"Yes, he did indeed."

"And the boy was named Todd."

Everything returned to normal, and Charles made sure to erase the memories of the incident. To everyone in the cafe, things had been normal for the past few seconds. Their conversations picked up where they would have if they hadn't stopped speaking. Max sipped from his cup and dipped one of the biscuits in it.

"I know that one of your students managed to find him, I unfortunately haven't been able to track them. I also know that forces besides the government have tried to kill our kind today," he removed a photo from his jacket pocket, placing it on the table.

It showed Cyclops, Todd and his mother being shot. Other photos showed the shooter themselves. It was a blurred photo of a man in purple and black gear.

"Paul Dennis, Paul Denning, Jean-Paul Denis, a few variations of the same name, he operates mainly in Western Europe and the States. Those whom seek his services know him only as Paladin, a professional, kidnapping, information retrieval, corporate sabotage. The man has a code, he's no bigot, merely a paid pawn in a scheme I have yet to fully discover. One that threatened the life of two young mutants and one's family member," Max explained.

"Who took the photos?" Charles asked.

"You aren't the only one forming a support network Charles, I intend to one day take a more direct approach," Max said and frowned as Charles shook his head. "Can you seriously not say that such a thing is necessary, they built a machine to track and kill people with X-genes, the MRD nearly turned the city into a warzone just to imprison a teenager and they have continually forgone due process."

"I know this Magnus, I know this," Charles seethed. "They're reacting out of fear, we have to alleviate that fear, show people that there's a better way than what the MRD offers."

"Your school, your plans for a system of education, you may claim differently Charles but what you have put together clearly shows that you believe in the same thing I do. Humanity can't be trusted not to harm mutants before they have learnt the lesson, those mutants must be protected."

"So do the people caught in the wake of their awakening, we've both seen how destructive unchecked power can be, both authority and X-genes. We have to teach and protect all of them," Charles explained.

"A pen in one hand and a sword in the other, an admirable venture old friend, but there are those who will not understand, who don't want to understand. You've been a soldier Charles, you know killing is necessary in a war."

"We aren't at war Magnus...or do you intend to declare it?" Charles asked.

"I don't want war Charles, I just want a world where our people have a chance," Max said.

* * *

Scott removed his jacket as he got into the safe house. It wasn't a high luxury place, there was a row of bunk beds, a sofa and TV and a fridge. When he arrived, Hank was already opening a soda and pouring the contents down his throat.

"About time you two got here, what happened?" Warren asked.

"I'll explain later, guys, this is Todd," he said.

"Nice to finally meet you Todd," Bobby said, offering the boy his hand.

"So you guys are super heroes huh? Thanks for helping me and my mom out," Todd said.

"Speaking of, where is she?" Hank asked.

"Some friends we made are looking after her, like I said we'll discuss it later. The MRD presence seems to have been reduced, but the WDRA have begun cutting off some areas, they're launching some kind of operation themselves. Last I heard there was a fire, apparently Iron man got involved, information goes dark after that," Scott explained.

"We're teaming up with Iron man," bright looks crossed both Bobby and Hank's faces.

"No, we're staying here until the Professor gets back," Scott said.

"So you're the esteemed leader huh?"

Scott turned to the bathroom doorway. Emma had finished changing into a pair of jeans and a white blouse.

"I'm Emma, good to finally meet you Scott," she said, offering him her hand.

"You too, Sage sent me some info, you have a projection mutation right?" Scott asked.

"It isn't like yours I assure you," she said.

"On that we can agree, you can turn yours off," Scott retorted.

"Great first meeting," Bobby muttered to Hank.

"Oh yeah, I ship them already," both laughed at Todd's comment.

 **"Now is not the time to be focused on such matters!"**

"God is that..."

 **"Someone has already made that comment today Mr Tolansky, or as I see you now wish to be known as Mr Toynbee. I am Sage, assistant to Professor Xavier and a teacher at the institute,"** she explained.

"Sage, you aren't strictly speaking a traditional telepath, how are you doing this?" Scott asked.

 **"I'm the one establishing a link, with some help from Mr Ramsey!"**

"Jean, so you know about us now?"

 **"Well it would have been difficult for you guys to maintain a façade like that, considering we live in the same building...I'm sorry but is there an easier way to do this? My head is starting to hurt!"**

 **"Which means that will be all for the day Jean, get some rest again, I will converse with the team the old fashioned way."**

"Computer time," Hank leapt onto the chair near the old computer and prepared the keyboard.

 _"This was an opportunity for Marvel Girl to practice using her powers, and also for us to practice combining our abilities,"_ a string of text appeared across the screen, courtesy of Sage's ability to interface with computer systems.

"Fascinating," Hank muttered before he typed a response. _"Cyclops suggests waiting for X, clarification?"_

Not even a moment passed before Sage replied:

 _"Negative, remain in safe house for one more hour, then go to projected secondary target site. Toad and Diamond girl to remain in safe house waiting for extraction!"_

"All right team, you saw the instructions, take in some fluids, eat some food..."

"And then get ready for a party," Bobby said.

"What does she mean projected secondary target site?" Emma asked.

"We're also tracking a mutant called Gary Stewarts, Bobby and I discovered that his girlfriend is expecting him to accompany her to a concert at the club that Todd worked at," Hank explained.

"I could help you guys then, I know people there," Todd said.

"Out of the question, you've already been through enough, you and Emma wait for extraction with Bobby," Scott explained.

"Bull shit, how come I have to stay here?" Bobby asked.

"Sage didn't mention him staying Scott," Warren said.

"Bobby's too young to be at that kind of scene, besides one of us should stay with Emma and Todd," Scott said.

"I disagree," Warren retorted.

"The Professor did put Scott in charge Warren, I disagree too, but I think we should give them a chance," Hank stated, stepping diplomatically between the two X-men.

"Fine, but the responsibility is yours," Warren huffed turning away and retrieving his trench coat.

"Thanks for having my back, even if you don't agree," Scott said to Hank.

"I would have listened to what Warren and Bobby had to say," Hank shrugged his shoulders as he went to get his jacket.

* * *

Magnus stirred his second cup, this time it was a green tea. He held it to his nose and breathed it in, relaxing his nerves and leaning back on his chair. Charles took a chunk out of his muffin and bit it.

"I agree with the MRD, to a point," Charles held his hands up defensively at Magnus's look. "When I first came here, I accidentally tore the first napkin I used. The material is very frail, it was a complete accident, all I did was take it from the dispenser but it still tore," to demonstrate his point, Charles ripped one of the paper towels from the silver dispenser beside them.

It hadn't even been a hard pull and the flimsy material tore. The slip of paper was thinner than cheap tissue. Charles placed it on the floor, watching Magnus's face for a reaction or any kind of understanding.

"New mutants are like me and this piece of paper, they can't help the damage they cause, but they cause damage all the same. Sometimes with consequences, there have been a good number of people who have died because of mutant manifestation," Charles explained.

"103 this year, most governments do what they can to keep people from knowing, I understand that Charles. I understand we're dangerous when we don't have control. But should we be deprived of basic human rights because of that?" Magnus asked.

"You know that isn't what I was saying Magnus, the MRD is the solution that the government has now...they just need to be shown a better way," Charles said.

"And you're going to show them that better way Charles? You're going to stand up and say to these people 'I am Charles Xavier, I have the solution,' and what do you think their response will be? Acceptance? Consideration?"

"I have no idea what their response will be, but we need to choose better ways otherwise how are we any different from them?" Charles asked.

"The fact that we're the ones in the right," Magnus said.

"Curious thing being right," Charles muttered, sipping his tea and looking away from Magnus for a moment. "I once had a history teacher who told me, 'being right is dependent on who has written history', which means that a great many atrocities were performed in the name of victory and righteousness, so that people could make the world they envisioned, even if it meant killing to do it. But they weren't right, not really, if mutants are the future then shouldn't we show a better way to make the future?"

Magnus finished his tea and ordered another one. They remained silent as the girl serving them planted Magnus's cup on the table. He mouthed a thank you and leant forward in his chair, there was understanding and calm in Charles's eyes, then it turned into anger.

"Why should we repeat past mistakes? Shouldn't the next generation learn from the last, should we not put aside grievances, should we not do everything we can do avoid war, because we understand that war is devastating, because we understand how many lives are ruined because of it? So in the beginning, can we not do what is done at the end of every war and sit down and talk, compromise, find a better way to live with each other?" the professor explained.

"Because people never lived with one another after war, people couldn't forgive each other, my parents never forgave. I could never forgive," Magnus said.

"Even for the sake of peace, for the sake of future generations not having to suffer as we did. One whom remembers the devastation of war, of being the victim, and the other who remembers committing the atrocities, in the name of duty and order. We both experience pain when we close our eyes and sleep, if only to spare ourselves the pain of hatred and regret, is forgiveness not preferable?" Charles asked.

"I've never tried to seek an answer!"

Charles lifted his cup to his nose, smelling the relaxing fumes. Opposite him Magnus simply drank, mere fumes from a cup of tea could do nothing for him.

* * *

Tony looked at the two super humans. His mind knew and could imagine every piece of technology capable of being invented. Whatever was behind this 'Molten man' was related to technology, Tony knew that from first glance. But the other one, even though he was wearing armour, there was nothing technological about it. Tony shielded his eyes as Molten man generated another burst of heat. It gave the 'Saviour' a moment of pause, the heat had generated a shockwave that knocked his dark wings back.

"You will not escape," Saviour said.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Molten man yelled.

He threw his hand forward, creating a wave of fire that knocked the Saviour back. Gary shook his head in denial, the very thought of a villain getting an advantage over him was preposterous. The young man grabbed Molten man by his neck, flying up with his wings.

"You will harm no one else," he declared.

Suddenly, a projectile slammed into his back, blowing up on contact. Gary looked over his shoulder and saw the masked archer. Hawkeye knocked back another arrow, launching it towards Saviour. Gary batted the arrow aside, but was quickly hit in the shoulder by another arrow. He looked towards Hawkeye, the man was limited his loading time by holding arrows in his hands. This allowed him to continually fire a barrage of projectiles at Gary. Explosive tips slammed against his armour, then bladed tips sharpened to pierce metal. Combined with Barton's strength and training, Gary felt those projectiles strike his skin. He yanked two of the projectiles out of his arms, dark energy leaking out of his armour.

"I should have known, you villainous bastard, DON'T GET IN MY WAY!" Saviour yelled.

He swooped towards Hawkeye, only for Iron man to tackle him in midair. Tony engaged his rocket boots and directed Saviour to the ground. Gary grabbed at his neck, but Tony let him go, leant back and then slammed his foot into Saviour's face. At the same time, Hawkeye fired another explosive projectile, hitting Saviour in the back. The dark wings on his back stretched, turning into a centipede like creature. Barton dived off of the roof, avoiding the creature. An arrow with a cable attached hit the adjacent rooftop and Barton swung to the streets. He pulled two arrows out of his quiver and then tilted his head.

 _"Time to get out of here,"_ his boss told him.

Barton tapped his comm. and repositioned himself, using lamp posts as cover. Above him, Tony continued to grab at Saviour and drag him towards the ground. Garret jumped up, grabbing Saviour by his legs and throwing him. But instead of hitting the ground, the dark wings cushioned his fall, and then dug underground. Spikes suddenly burst through Garret's feet, sparks were released from the circuits of his prosthetics and he grit his teeth together in frustration.

"How much of you is machine?" Tony asked.

"None of your damn business," Garret said.

He wasn't going to let go of Gary, the Saviour knew that. His dark wings changed again, his left one bent and swept through Garret's arm like a blade.

"You know how much these costs punk?" the agent snarled, clutching his stump.

Saviour then turned his right wing into a hammer, smashing it into Tony's side and throwing him into a building.

"You've lost your way, but it's all right, I will show you all what it takes to be a true hero, once I've dealt with this villain," Gary looked over his shoulder, seeing Molten man trying to lift a manhole cover.

But the young man's hands melted the metal. He looked up at Saviour in fear, the man's dark wings curled and slithered like snakes.

"Keep back, just stay back," Molten man said.

Throwing his hands up defensively, his skin glowed brighter and he released an explosion of fire.

* * *

Sven curiously followed the note on the Hardy foundation. Names had been jotted down beside it, Anastasia Hardy, and Walter Hardy/John Hardevsky. There was a sequence of numbers that Sven focused on, 20-12-40, perhaps a date. Then specifically written underneath Walter/John's name was the title 'The cat'. There was then a note: 'P42-doesn't make sense considering Cat career.' Then there was a line linking this statement to 20-12-40.

'So dad was looking into this Hardy guy, he went by 'The cat' so maybe he was a thief, and he did something in 1940, but that would make the man extremely old now. Why would dad be interested in a crime that happened 78 years ago?' Sven wondered.

He closed the book and put it back in his pocket. His hope was that he would find more answers by looking into the Hardy foundation. According to the directory they had a building where Sven was going.

'Hopefully I'll find out more than I did the last few places I went to,' Sven thought.

Then he felt it, a sudden shake of the ground, before seeing a cloud of fire rise in the distance. Sven broke off into a run towards the flames, round people captivated by the sight, discussing it or calling the authorities. In his mind, he began thinking something had happened at the Hardy foundation, wondering if it was related to what his father was investigating. The air turned orange as Sven got closer and closer to where the explosion occurred. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face, the temperature rose and then he felt the sting of the flames. Buildings around him had been set ablaze.

'The people inside those buildings, wait, the fire and rescue service is already here,' Sven looked at his surroundings in shock.

Everything went black, the floor, the sky, all of the buildings became dark silhouettes. Sven stood in a void, and the only light he saw came from a figure in gold armour. He floated, arms raised like some kind of holy figure. Black markings suddenly glowed across Sven's skin and he hugged his arms, suddenly feeling a surge of pain. He wanted to vomit, his head felt like it was on fire, his heart felt as if he had run more than a marathon. It pounded and pounded and Sven's eyes spun. Something was wrong, and he wanted it to stop. The golden armoured figure wasn't a source of light at all, not the kind of light that mattered.

"You are all safe," Saviour said.

The darkness faded and Sven fell to his knee. He let out deep and heavy breaths, panting from the experience. Looking up, Sven saw that there were a few others on the streets. They were looking up at the same gold figure that Sven had seen. Flames had still been set on the streets, but the majority of the burning buildings had been extinguished.

"Now to dispose of the evil that has tried to harm you," he said.

He threw to the floor a man whose skin glowed like molten gold. Sven saw the man, frightened for dear life. He looked up at Saviour, holding his arms up as if ready to beg for his life. Sven let out a scream, matching the Molten Man's, the Saviour threw his hand forward, and the darkness behind him enveloped the Molten man. Mark screamed, his voice muffled by the darkness. Black markings spread across Sven's skin, and he clawed at his arms. The images flashed before his eyes, the day of the Cataclysm. So many dead, so many more broken by it.

'No, never again,' he thought.

The Saviour squeezed his hand into a fist, the darkness spreading across Mark's body. His hand stuck out of the mass that had formed, shaking as if he was having a seizure.

'No more,' tears flooded out of Sven's eyes.

His father was smiling at him. Then he saw, saw the body, saw the casket go down into the hole, saw the dirt covering the casket, saw his mother and little sister crying.

"No one else," he whispered.

The Saviour lifted Mark off of the ground, the boy had stopped moving. Darkness began to move his arm into the black mass, to completely consumed him.

"No one else dies," Sven said.

His eyes narrowed into slits. He saw a young man struggling with gambling debts, saw a man offering him a way out. Then he saw the young man arguing with a girl, though he could sense the great love and concern between them.

"Stop gambling your life away," he heard her say.

It was the love between siblings, a sister and a brother. He saw his own sister crying her eyes out.

"No one else will feel this pain," Sven said, gritting his teeth together, clutching his heart.

A light began to glow on it and his hair began to flow and spike.

"NOT ON MY WATCH!" Sven screamed.

There was a bang, and a shockwave that made Saviour flinch. He raised his hand, shielding himself from a dust cloud. Coils of dark and light energy rushed out of the dust, singeing his armour. Gary narrowed his eyes as a foot stepped out of the dust. Suddenly, something slammed into Gary's face, throwing him back. He looked and saw someone with their foot raised, having followed through with a ferocious kick. They were obscured by total darkness, only their glowing red eyes and spiked hair was visible. Gary's wings were drawn away from the Molten Man, who gasped for air. The new arrival landed in a hunched posture, huffing like some animal.

"A creature of darkness, so you seek to save your ally," Gary snarled.

He raised his hand, summoning torrents of yellow lightning. Then he threw his hand forward, releasing the volts. But Sven suddenly flickered out of existence, appearing above one bolt, then suddenly appearing around another in a flipped position. Gary increased the charge, releasing more bolts of energy. Sven appeared at Gary's side, swinging his leg around and delivering a kick to Gary's face again. The force of the blow released a miniature shockwave and threw Saviour down to the ground. Gary used his wings to cushion his fall, dragging them against the ground before he came to a stop. He gathered energy in his hand, turning it into a whip.

"I am pure light, I will never let darkness such as yours infect this world," he said.

The whip latched around Sven's neck, pulling him to the ground. Sven landed, pulling against the whip and enduring the searing pain. It felt as if a chain with thorns had been wrapped around his neck. He nearly fell down, consumed by that pain, but he knew he would die if he did. Gary summoned a lance in his hand, aiming it at Sven.

"Evil such as yours is irredeemable, it must be erased permanently," the Saviour stated before he threw the lance.

Sven looked over his shoulder, seeing the people behind him. If he moved, they would die, so instead he dug his heels into the ground and crossed his arms together. The spear impacted with him, creating an explosion of light that dragged him back across the ground. Smoke rose from Sven's arms and he screamed, feeling an old wound in his arm sting. Saviour threw another projectile and Sven braced himself. The sparks of light spread to another building, setting it on fire.

'No, please no,' Sven tried to jumped for it, but chains wrapped around his body and slammed him into the ground.

"You helped your friend escape, I won't let anyone else get hurt because of you," Gary slammed his foot into Sven's neck, generating more sparks that lit up buildings around him.

'No, no, stop please,' Sven wanted to scream at the man to stop, but couldn't.

People were screaming, in danger, hurt and about to die. Sven yelled, struggling against his restraints. He caught Gary's foot and shoved him back. But Gary summoned a sword and slashed Sven across his chest. The boy yelled out, voice echoing from the effects of his power. The Saviour raised his sword over his head and aimed it at Sven's heart. Sven looked at the buildings around him and yelled in defiance. As Saviour thrust his sword towards him, Sven dug his heels in and grit his teeth together. A blade burst through his back, and blood sprayed across the floor.

* * *

Charles and Magnus/Max were still sitting, fumes rising from their trees.

"I heard you had gotten divorced, Moira couldn't take you flirting with other women?" Magnus asked.

"I wasn't that bad, it wasn't about love, just trust...I abused her trust. She ended up marrying a man who abused her," Charles said.

"You didn't think of lifting her off her feet?"

"She didn't need that, she has a lab on Muir island now."

"I know, I've read into some of her work on mutation, do you know she actually provides containment cells for the MRD?"

"Moira would never do anything inhumane," Charles narrowed his eyes at Magnus.

"And what if the methods required to contain a dangerous mutant had to be inhumane, will you use kind words, firm but fair methods need to be used," Magnus said.

"But we need to be better than that Magnus," Charles said.

"Ah yes, we'll have a world where everyone seeks to be better, free of profit and...that sounds familiar doesn't it, Picard," Magnus grinned as Charles shook his head.

"You know how much I hate Star Trek," Charles groaned.

"Why because you're so much like one of its most self righteous characters?"

"The whole ideology of star fleet, I never really understood the concept 'betterment of humanity', it's too vague and they never really clarified it. By what standards do they seek improvement, it's not monetary as that is something apparently no longer present in that society (though this contradicts itself at times). So is it philosophically, intellectually, technologically, morally? And if so, by whose standards is that? Who can be held up as the paragon of morale virtue and absolution?" Charles asked.

"You don't believe in right and wrong," Magnus said.

"You know I believe in right and wrong, but I do not believe that there exists someone who is altogether righteous. I think there are absolute good people in this world, people who fight against their dark natures, people who strive to do the right thing. And there are those whom are so convinced that they are right, and that what they do is right, that consequences, casualties have no true value to them," Charles explained.

"You don't believe that the end sometimes justifies the means?" Magnus asked.

"Not to those who are the means," Charles retorted.

Another moment of silence passed between them as they drank. Charles put a finger to his head, tapping it, then he reached across the table, as if moving a chess piece. Magnus shook his head and chuckled, doing the same movement.

"It's been some time since we've played, who have you tested yourself against?"

"You remember Sage?"

"Dark haired woman? Mind like a computer? Very attractive woman, but very out of your league," Magnus smirked as Charles frowned at him.

"Please, I've never considered seducing Sage," Charles said and chuckled as Magnus shot him a doubtful look.

"Like you're one to talk though, even when you were married you had chemistry with that Darkholme woman, have you kept in touch with her?" Charles asked.

"I have, she's married to Irene now."

"So you two won't be getting together, a shame, I always thought after Magda, you two would have made a good couple," Charles lowered his head as he spoke.

"Magda was, the only one Charles, I tried to move on but I couldn't," Magnus shook his head and finished his tea.

"Just tell me, did you ever find them?"

"The children? Or the bastards who killed her?" Magnus asked.

"Both!" Charles said.

"Your opinion of me would change if I answered that question, there is darkness in me Charles, you wouldn't think of me the same if you knew exactly how much," Magnus explained.

"There's darkness and light in all of us Magnus, as I have said it is how we balance the two that determines the kind of people we are. The world is filled with ignorant people, with people who disagree with one another, people who hate things. But even those people are capable of good, capable of helping others. I don't believe the world is filled with people who want to hurt, but to help if they can," Charles explained.

"But that morality binds people into groups, it gives us politics, war and genocide, and altruism, heroism and sainthood, our people need a hero to stand for them, these ordinary people here," Magnus motioned to everyone else in the room. "They need someone to stand as their superior, I would do that, if only so that the wrong type of person doesn't!"

"Jonathon Haidt," Charles muttered. "I always preferred Arthur Ashe, 'True Heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost!'"

* * *

Blood dripped across the floor and Gary looked his opponent in the eyes. Dull grey eyes, but narrowed in defiance. Sandy blonde hair, messy as if he had just gotten out of bed. A face that held so much resolve, but wasn't at all what a hero was supposed to look like. His clothes dull, his skin dull, Gary scoffed at the young man holding the blade of his sword. Blood came out of Sven's mouth and he grit his teeth together. He wasn't finished yet, and wouldn't stop yet. The red markings appeared over his body, clothes and all, but they didn't shine brightly, didn't draw any attention. Gary widened his eyes, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. The red markings had spread to his armour.

"No more will die," Sven said.

"What?" Gary gasped.

Sven pulled the sword out of his chest, his wound glowing as he took a step towards Gary. The Saviour backed away in fear.

"That's what I'm trying to achieve too, no, you are the evil, I am the good!" he said.

"I swore," Sven seethed, ignoring Gary and continuing forward.

"I AM THE GOOD!"

"No more will die in front of me!"

"I AM THE HERO! THE SAVIOUR!" Gary yelled manically.

"NOT WHILST I'M AROUND!" Sven yelled.

He ducked under Gary's wild swing and delivered a cross that shattered the lower part of Gary's helmet. Then, he jumped, rebounding off of a lamp post and diving into a building. Gary looked up at the building and clutched his bruised cheek. This evil doer had fled, into the very flames he had caused. Suddenly, there was an explosion and Sven was thrown onto the roof of a car. He huffed and puffed, exhausted and spent. Then he looked at the mass on his chest. A little girl was curled up, looking at him in shock before she broke down in tears.

"Um, there, there, it's going to be all right," Sven said, and then looked up.

Iron man was spraying his extinguishing foam over the buildings, joining with the fire fighters and paramedics. Luke Cage and Danny Rand both rushed out of buildings, even Spider-man was there. Sven looked over to where Gary stood, and saw that 'The Saviour' was gone. He let out a sigh of relief, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

* * *

After paying for their tea, Charles and Magnus went their separate ways. Charles watched his old friend leave, the white haired man raised his hat to his head and looked over his shoulder at Charles.

"I have that itch Charles, have you been looking around in here?" Magnus asked.

"If I was old friend, it would only be because I'm looking for hope," Charles said.

"Let me know when you find it, until next we meet Charles," Magnus smirked, putting his hands in his pockets.

A bitter smile crossed Charles's face, before Magnus disappeared in the New York crowds.

* * *

Peter collapsed onto his bed and sighed in relief. He buried his head in his pillow, and lost himself to sleep. A moment passed and Harry and MJ burst into the room.

"Hey buddy, put some clothes on, we've got a party to get to," Harry said, causing Peter to groan.

"Please go away," he said.

"Come on Tiger, up, up, up!" MJ said, flicking Peter's ears, then smacking his bottom.

"Oh come on," Peter lifted his head up, revealing the bags under his eyes.

Harry and MJ saw the exhaustion written across Peter's face. Both exchanged looks, the kind of communication that could only have developed between good friends. Harry faked a yawn and rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, now that I think about it, we've had a pretty active day touring the campus, I'm a little tired myself," he said.

"You said it, besides it's not as if anyone famous is playing," MJ said.

Peter rested his head on his pillow and smiled. He had some good friends.

* * *

"What the hell did you do to this kid?"

The old man at the tailors held up Sven's jacket, looking at the hole in it. Sven laughed sheepishly, putting on a new shirt and placing the money for it on the counter.

"You can fix it right, it's really important to me," Sven said the last part silently.

Holding the jacket up and looking at the tinge of sadness in Sven's eyes, the old man nodded his head.

"Tell you what, come back tomorrow and I'll have the damage fixed," he said.

"Thank you, thank you very much," Sven bowed his head in gratitude.

Their attention was suddenly drawn to the TV, which highlighted the fire that had taken place. The agency's involvement, Iron man's battle with a mysterious armoured figure and people coming together to help others. Sven gasped when he saw the little girl in the arms of her mother.

"I thought I had lost her, my little Cassie," the woman said during her interview, kissing the top of her daughter's head.

"I understand you were pulled out of the fire miss," said the reporter.

"Someone saved me," the girl said.

"One of many brave individuals today, due their efforts, rescue services confirmed that there have been no casualties, a true example of what can happen when people come together. This is Eddie Brock with the Daily Bugle, signing off!"

The old man was smiling when he turned away from the TV.

"Good to know we didn't have another cataclysm," he said.

"Yeah," Sven whispered.

He walked out of the store and looked at his father's notebook.

'Helping others, this is what you and Arthur felt isn't it dad? I never thought that I would get to feel it,' he put the book in his pocket and began walking to his hotel. 'I think, I think that I want to keep on feeling it!'

Aaron looked down at Sven Reilly from the rooftop. He didn't need Uatu's commentary to understand what he was seeing. This was the moment Sven decided for sure, that he wanted to be a hero.

* * *

Immediately after, Aaron was in an alleyway, watching Gary Stewarts walk past him. He was rubbing his cheek, shaking his head in denial.

"No, no," he said. "NO! It's not right, I'm right, I'm supposed to be the hero!"

Aaron suddenly felt a terrible chill through his spine. He looked at the end of the alleyway and saw a hooded figure.

"You are right Gary, you are the hero, and you will prevail over this evil, you are the hero of this story and you will triumph, what do you plan to do?" the hooded man asked him.

Gary's eyes glowed a deep purple before he smiled.

"I know what I must do, to save the world, to destroy the ultimate evil, I will need a team, I must spread my light," the young man said and laughed as if his day had gotten brighter.

Aaron watched the boy, again suspecting it wouldn't end well for him. He glared at the hooded figure manipulating Gary, but he didn't keep glaring. The Machine man even stepped back in fear, for the hooded man was looking straight at him. His hood was raised enough to reveal his grinning face.

"Keep your eyes on him, the fun hasn't even begun yet," he said.

Next Chapter 10: Infect and Dazzle

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Charles Xavier and Magneto has always been one of the most interesting relationships in Marvel comics to me, I hope I did it justice whilst making it a little different too. I wanted to first have them seen as simply friends, not because of any ideals they may have shared, but simply because they liked each other and had the same sort of interests.

Though one major difference between the two:

Magneto: Trekkie

Xavier: Star Wars Fan (prior Disney and the sequel trilogy)

Jokes aside, they very much want the same thing, but they believe in different methods.


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 10: Infect and Dazzle

Faith slammed her fists into the punching bag. Her boxing gloves had been overworked, and the bag recently had been taped up. She always preferred hitting the old bag, it had lasted longer than any of the others in the gym. There was apparently a history behind it, some kid in Brooklyn in the thirties trained with it. He was a stick like boy, and never turned pro, but he would later become a very important part of the country's history. Faith punched it again and again, performing jabs, crosses, gut blows, haymakers, kidney punches and uppercuts. Her grandfather had been a soldier, her dad a fighter and her aunt an activist. Fighting was part of her upbringing, standing up for what she believed in though had been drilled into her by her mother, a nurse, though taking the necessary courses for a PHD now that Faith was at college. The point was, Faith was strong willed and passionate, so when she saw Gary again, she was going to find out what was wrong with him.

He walked into the gym in his clothes, tightening the bandages around his knuckles. Upon seeing Faith, Gary smiled and walked over to the mat. Faith had a certain beauty to her, she wasn't fat or thin, tall or short. She was beginning to tone her body, and her face wasn't that of a super models. Still when Gary looked at her, he couldn't deny there was something special about her. Something he could love.

"What's been up with you lately Gary?" she asked.

"What do you mean Faith?" he asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, Elizabeth hasn't seen you and she's getting worried, your performance in the club has skyrocketed, there's no way you suddenly got this good," Faith explained.

"You still think I'm on something don't you?"

"If the gloves fits," Faith huffed.

"Maybe I am on something, and it feels great," he said, taking a few steps closer to her.

"You insult the whole point of sports then," Faith said.

"You afraid I can take you down now?" Gary asked, brushing his finger through a loose strand of Faith's hair.

"What are you doing?" Faith asked.

"Come on Faith, lets spar," Gary said.

Faith knocked Gary's hand aside, turning away from him.

"You are such an ass hole, Elizabeth is better off without you," Faith said.

"She loves me and I love her, it doesn't have to be reduced to two people Faith," Gary grabbed Faith's shoulders.

She grabbed his wrist, tugged his arm over her shoulder and threw him, slamming Gary back first into the mat.

"In your dreams," she said.

Gary watched Faith leave in confusion. His mind cycled through the contradiction of it all, he was the hero, he had always gotten on with Faith before his transformation. She should be in awe of his improvements, not fearful of them. Their mutual attraction should have culminated. Something was definitely wrong. Tanya suddenly walked past him, a smile crossed her face as she swayed her hips. At least she was fine. He'd figure out what was wrong with Faith later. Walking to her as she got on a running machine, he wrapped his arms around her before she could turn the machine on.

"You know, I was thinking we could go on a date first," she said, leaning into his embrace.

"We don't need to date first, we already know," he whispered, kissing her neck.

Tanya widened her eyes in surprise, then turned and kissed Gary. The truth was she did like him, she didn't consider herself a bad person, just a girl who knew what she wanted in a lover. Gary was the kind of lover she wanted. Aaron had to watch, even as Gary began to pull Tanya's gym shorts down.

"I'm not watching this," he said.

"It is not what you think Machine Man!"

"Don't call me that," he shook his head and turned, only to be met with the sight of Gary and Tanya in an embrace.

His human mind stood aside, and the machine took over, seeing what this was. In Gary's mind it was an act of pure love, the start of his unity with trusted friends and lovers. The truth however, Gary was going to create monsters. When he and Tanya finished, the girl's eyes went black and the markings spread across her skin.

"He's going to build an army," Aaron concluded, returning to the Watcher's chamber.

Uatu nodded his head sadly.

* * *

When Scott, Warren and Hank arrived at the club, they saw that the concert was nearly ready. The stage itself had been set up, the instruments the bands would be playing and the speakers for the DJs. Alison waved towards Scott and called him over.

"Hey, did you find Todd?" she asked.

"We did, thank you for your help, so everything ready?"

"My instrument is," she pinched her throat and smiled at Scott.

Hank and Warren both rolled their eyes, Scott was oblivious to the attraction, even as Alison tugged on his arm and led him through the curtains.

"I was just wondering what kind of costume I should wear," she said, showing two hangers with suits on them.

Scott tilted his head in confusion, one was a silver outfit with high heels, it would have left her cleavage exposed, and the other outfit was some sort of jacket and headband combination.

"Oh Blaire, that's the problem with you," a voice spoke from another set of hangers.

Alison's smile faded when a dark haired girl walked into her field of vision.

"Lila," she practically snarled.

Upon seeing Scott, Lila smiled and walked over to him.

"Lila Cheney," she offered him her hand to kiss.

"The pop star?" he asked, shaking the hand instead.

"The very same, a fan?"

"I don't really listen to a lot of music, just whatever's on the radio," Scott said.

"Well, you'll probably have to wait until midnight to hear whatever Alison here can release, she's all dazzle, no skill," she said.

"Says the woman whose last album involved every song having auto tune," Alison retorted.

"How many acoustic albums have you released Blaire? In fact, how many albums altogether do you have?" Cheney smirked as Alison glared at her.

"Um ladies," Scott said, trying to catch their attention.

"And who are you to talk about dazzle? Every time you make a music video it involves you in sci-fi clothes or on a space ship!"

"That's my theme, I'm a space princess from Mojo World!"

"Wait a minute...please don't say you're going into acting," Alison groaned.

"This time next year I'll be the love interest of Edward Longshot," Lila grinned.

"So Longshot's going the route of every other series then, four phenomenal seasons then downhill from there. And why turn it into a romance series, Longshot was great as a lone wolf, don't tell me CW took it over."

"Nope still in Mojo's hands!"

Scott blocked the conversation out and walked away. He saw Warren and Hank standing by the entrance, watching people come into the building.

"Any progress?" he asked them.

"None, why not go back to the college, see if he's there?" Warren asked.

"If Bobby was with us, it would have been safer for us to split up," Hank said.

Warren nodded in agreement. Scott forgot their criticisms and focused on the door. People were beginning to show up early, but still no sign of Stewarts. Despite the criticisms of his team mates, Scott was going to focus on waiting for Gary to come to them. This was the biggest social event of the semester, Stewarts was going to be here.

* * *

There was a hostel a few blocks from the club. One night was well within Sven's budget, he sat on his bed, the bunk above him unoccupied. There was no separation of gender between the rooms, which consisted of two bedrooms with three bunk beds in each and a social area. More people were in the social area than the rooms, as they were getting ready for the performance tonight. Sven had heard about it, and spotted the canisters of alcohol the teens were exchanging. They would drink for a bit and then head out, probably with the aim of getting really drunk at the club. None of them were out to cause any harm, so Sven paid them no heed. He focused instead on the pages of his father's notebook.

'I'll go back to the hospital and question Spector again, then see if I can get anything else out of Doctor Conners, he's definitely hiding something. Then the next day, I check out this address, 177A Bleecker street,' he shut the book and rested his head back.

Sven touched his heart, remembering the pain from when he had been impaled. But he also remembered that girl he had saved. The warmth of the fire on his face, her weight on his chest. Then he remembered the feeling he had, the urge that became utter obsession. He remembered feeling that he had to save her, no matter what. Looking at his arm, he saw old scars, a result of him not being able to control the power inside of him. But for that moment when he faced 'the Saviour' his resolve helped him to focus when he had been consumed by his rage.

'Was it just a fluke, or could I do it again?' he wondered.

He got off of the bed and made his way out of the Hostel. There was a phone booth outside of it, Sven deposited some change and called someone he thought could help. He waited and waited, but still there was no answer.

"Sensei, where could you be?" Sven wondered.

"KOKO NI!" a man slammed his hand into the phone booth, making Sven scream.

Sven cautiously stepped out of the booth, his eyes wide in fright and lip trembling with nervousness. The man stood in front of him, a Japanese man in his late forties. He wore fingerless gloves and a black leather jacket. There was a scarf wrapped around his neck and he looked at Sven with his arms crossed.

"Yukimura-sensei," Sven identified the man.

The man hummed, moving his head towards Sven's chest and shaking his head.

 _"Weak,"_ he muttered, the man only spoke his native Japanese when addressing Sven and a few others.

"What?" Sven gasped.

 _"I saw you on the TV, you faced someone whom controlled the darkness, and you were defeated. He could have done worse than impale you, had he been a true fighter, and not a pretender. Are you a pretender Sven?"_ Yukimura inquired.

"A pretender? What are you talking about sensei? I didn't seek out that fight, I was just passing by when it happened," Sven explained.

Yukimura suddenly rushed forward, reaching his hand into Sven's pocket and pulling out his book before tripping him to the floor.

 _"What is it that you seek boy? Truth? Or strength? You gave up on strength a few years ago, gave up on learning to control this power within you. Arthur told me you would be a good hero, but you disappointed me, you were afraid, I still see fear in you boy!"_

"Give that back," Sven said.

Yukimura took a few steps backwards and held the book out, taunting Sven to follow. Sven did just that, following Yukimura into the alleyway. The young man continued following the man, lowering his hands, squeezing them into fists. He was tense, and ready, or so he thought. Nerves took over and he began to think, 'what if I'm not strong? what if I will fail?' and he was also worried about the book. His eyes were focused on that object in Yukimura's hand.

 _"Try to take it from me, use all your power if you have to,"_ Yukimura commanded.

He raised his hand, beckoning Sven to come at him. After a moment's hesitation, Sven closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Red markings began to cover his skin, red electricity sparked around him. They gathered into his legs and hands and with a burst of speed, Sven rushed towards Yukimura. The man sidestepped, and Sven widened his eyes, he had missed his target completely. He rolled in midair, but landed on his back, sliding across the floor until he hit a trash bin.

 _"Just as I thought, weak, not enough to protect the people around you, the stranger on the street, the people you will come to learn are in danger, the people who can be in danger, the people you cherish, your friends, your sister and mother,"_ Yukimura ranted.

Rolling onto is chest, Sven stood up and ran at Yukimura, pulling his fist back. Yukimura sidestepped again, but at the last moment, ducked, grabbing the hem of Sven's trousers and lifting him. He used the momentum of Sven's punch against him, throwing him over his shoulder. Again Sven landed flat on his back. But he quickly thrust his feet towards Yukimura. The man took a one inch step back, dodging the kick. He kicked Sven in the side, hard, making him gasp in pain.

 _"You couldn't save anyone that day, because you were a powerless child, you are still a powerless child,"_ the man took a few steps back, shrugging his shoulders as Sven looked at him with a pleading expression.

He removed a hook and chain from his coat pocket. Throwing it upwards, Yukimura attached the chain to the roof and pulled himself towards the rooftop.

"SENSEI!" Sven yelled.

He looked up at the roof and grit his teeth together. Again he summoned the power, focusing it into his legs and filling them with strength. Then he jumped, launching himself to the rooftop. But much to his frustration, he had again missed his mark. There wasn't enough strength in his legs, he couldn't make the distance and fell to the floor. He let out a yell of pain, his back had taken the brunt of the landing.

"Sensei please, give it back, please give it back to me, I need that," he called out, hoping the man was close by.

But no reply came, and Sven got off of the floor, his back still in pain and feeling a cramp in both legs. The price of using his power in such a manner, a power he didn't fully understand.

* * *

Peggy Carter looked at photos of the previous incident. The evidence she received had included the fire at the Hardy Foundation building, the arrival of Iron man, the Molten man and their engagement and the appearance of the rogue agents. She stood in her office, Garret and agent Ward in front of her, both men standing at ease. On her desk were two files, both open. One showed a profile picture of a blonde haired man with two hearing aids on, the second showed a red haired woman.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova," Peggy identified the woman.

"That's a mouthful," Garret grinned.

"Her original name, when she gained American citizenship it was changed to Natasha Romanoff, which is her more widely recognised alias," Peggy said.

"How do you know her?" Ward asked.

"We were rivals during a mission in Russia, she used to work for the KGB's Red Room, part of their Widow program. She moonlighted as a ballerina, but had been trained since childhood in espionage, assassination, hand to hand combat and marksmanship. Later on, she was subjected to Russia's version of the Infinity formula," Peggy explained.

"The same serum that's given you your longevity," Garret said.

"Bet she's nowhere near as old though," Ward muttered, freezing as Carter shot him a look.

"No, she's still a young woman in comparison to the boss," Garret went out and said his thoughts, not caring for Peggy's feelings.

She shook his head and carried on.

"She defected to the united states not long after the cold war ended, we assigned her to the Howler unit, but it seems she's gone rogue with her CO," Peggy huffed.

"Wait, the Howler unit, you mean she works for..."

"Yes Agent Ward, as for her friend, the archer, he's a new player. You know where I drew his file out of? A prison archive," Peggy said and Garret whistled.

"Pretty impressive skill for a deaf prison inmate, he was going toe to toe with the Iron man," he said.

"But he's just an archer," Ward said.

"His bow has a 250 pound draw weight on it," Peggy said and again Garret whistled, impressed. "Clinton Francis Barton, born into a carnival family..."

"Ooh, let me guess, they were the archers," Garret interrupted.

"His stage name was Hawkeye, behind the scenes though the troop was carrying out heists. After a few years of this, Barton grew a conscience and sold his family out for a plea bargain," Peggy explained.

"Cold," Garret muttered.

"Why turn up now though, and could they be working for the Howler?" Ward asked.

"I think they most certainly are working for him, trying to gather super humans it looks like. What do we know about the boy?" Peggy asked.

"Mark Raxton, parents Pedro Raxton and Kimberly Allan divorced five years ago. He has a sister who lives with her mother and a sizable gambling debt. Horses mostly, and some CCTV footage confirms he had some interaction with a Charles Weiner...sorry, Weiderman," Garret and Ward both tried suppressing chuckles.

'I work with children,' Peggy thought, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

"The Hardy foundation's hung Weiderman out to die, says he was carrying out illegal genetic experiments on desperate volunteers. Some experiment using nanotech, much more successful it seems than his experiments with Vibranium...oh wait, we aren't supposed to talk about that are we?"

"Vibranium, strongest metal on the planet, does it have any connection to what was done to Raxton?" Peggy asked.

"The research he used was based on the Human Torch android," Ward said.

"Jim Hammond, you mean Jim Hammond, a presidential order recognised him as human Agent Ward," there was a ferocity in Peggy's tone, one that made Ward lower his head apologetically.

"Don't worry about it kid, I get chewed out for inappropriate comments too. Because it's apparently sexist to tell Danvers to smile more," Garret rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of Danvers, her treatment at the Pym centre should be finished, I want you to draft her onto your team, you'll be taking Agent Quake too, this mission requires some raw power and so far, those two are the best we have access to," Peggy explained.

"What exactly will I be using them for boss, tracking down and beating up a scared kid, cause let's face it Danvers is the type of person to punch first and talk later," Garret said.

"I'll...give you that one about her, no, you take point in this mission Garret, you need to track down this newcomer, this 'Saviour', before anyone else gets hurt!"

* * *

Elizabeth walked through the corridors of the college. It was eerie how empty it seemed. A few people were going to the dance, but Liz had no desire to go without Gary. She had spent hours looking for him earlier, before spending some time with her friends. They all said that maybe he had a girl on the side. But Liz knew better, she knew he wasn't that kind of person, and it wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly become that person. She knew that Gary was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

'But where are you Gary, where are you?' she wondered as she unlocked and opened her door.

What she found made her freeze in shock. Gary's clothes had been scattered across the floor, alongside a few other girl's clothes. She walked further into the room, shaking her head in denial. Her eyes traced over the trail of clothes, until they reached the bed. Gary was pulling his head out of the covers, between Tanya and one of her friends Becky. He pulled the blonde haired girl into a kiss, and then kissed Tanya.

"Oh god," Elizabeth whispered.

Gary sat up and looked over his shoulder, smiling at Elizabeth despite the tears in her eyes.

"Liz, you're back, I was hoping you'd get here," he said.

"WHY YOU JERK!" Elizabeth screamed.

"You haven't done anything wrong Elizabeth, neither have I, you still love me, and I still love you," Gary said.

He walked off of the bed, arms open to embrace Elizabeth.

"I...what are you a bigamist?" she demanded.

"Don't sound so cruel Liz, there's nothing wrong with loving others, I love all of you as you love one another," Gary said.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He cupped her cheeks, looking at her crying face and drawing her towards him.

"Gary, no, Faith was right, you are a..." Elizabeth stopped as Gary pushed his lips against hers.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, feeling her tears sting his cheeks. Elizabeth moaned, before she widened her eyes. She let out a muffled scream, trying to push Gary away before he grabbed the back of her head, holding her firmly in place as he kissed her. Behind them, Aaron watched and his hands trembled, knowing that this was not forced passion, but an infection. If he was capable of tears, he would have cried for Elizabeth.

Warren tapped his foot against the ground, impatient as he usually was. The young man looked towards the entrance and shook his head. There were no new entrances, no Gary Stewart or even any of his friends. Once again, Scott failed them as a leader. He turned to the emergency exit and began walking out.

"Warren," Hank called to him. "Where do you think you're going?" the older boy asked.

"Seriously Hank, what are we doing here?" Warren asked.

"Trying to find new mutants, we can talk with Blaire after her performance, but we still need to wait for Gary Stewarts," Hank explained.

"Face it, Scott had an idea and it failed, we're wasting our time, I'm going back to the college to find Stewarts myself," Warren said.

"We have orders Warren, besides, the last time you went off on your own didn't end so well did it?" Hank asked.

"We all survived," Warren retorted.

"And how long can our luck last? For god's sake Warren, I think Scott's leadership has been lacking too but we don't be insubordinate otherwise everything falls apart and what we're doing is too important for us to mess up," Hank explained.

"We've already messed up Hank, stop drinking the cool aid already," Warren huffed and stormed out of the club.

He slammed the door behind him, pulled off his coat and shifted his clothes into his costume. After pulling the cowl over his face, Warren flew off into the night. Inside the club, Scott and Hank continued looking up at the stage, the lights were beginning to dim. People were starting to grow quiet and focus on the stage. There was a bright light and a clacking of heels. Alison raised her finger as music began to blare through the club. She was wearing a silver outfit that left her midriff and arms exposed. The lights flared around her as she began to sing, her face illuminated. It was covered by a blue mask over her eyes.

"Warren's flying off alone for this, idiot," Hank muttered, whistling as he looked at Alison's stunning form.

The X-man looked across the crowd to his leader. Much to his amusement, Scott was bopping his head to the tune.

* * *

Frank was army raised, his 'further education' had been continuous service within the army. He had found brothers and sisters in the army, commanding officers had been fathers to him. When it came time to return to the states, he was lucky enough to find love, and raise his children. But the army always called back to him. After 9/11, trips to the Middle East became more frequent. It meant that Frank eventually befriended the local people. So when he came home, and found his son using offensive terms, Frank educated him the way his father educated him. He hated himself for that, raising a hand against his little boy, who was only using words everyone else on the street was using. Frank hated violence against children the most.

When he purchased his police scanner, the store clerk tried to flog him porn with underage actresses. He'd beaten him to death with a base ball bat. Afterwards Frank checked the club scenes, through the music he was able to pick up conversations, most gossiping about that incident with that Spider-man joker and the Mutant response division. Frank knew the threat that mutants represented, but he hadn't spent most of his life fighting for his country so that citizens freedoms could be sacrificed. Especially when he knew the kind of monsters Stryker was hiding. That wasn't his interest anyway, he was following drug rings, illegal gun sales, gang recruitments. What he found was small in comparison, but no less important. He'd come upon a trio of girls, two of them consoling their distraught friend. They were trying to convince her to report her teacher at ESU. She had been harassed, blackmailed, abused. Frank would not tolerate that.

Getting into ESU was easy enough, Frank knew which locks he could break and which he could pick. Walking the halls of ESU reminded him again that kids nowadays had great opportunities, opportunities he never had. He imagined the kind of person he might have been without the army, maybe a cop, maybe a janitor, Frank didn't consider himself an intellectual or smart. He had sense, imagination, and he was a good enough listener to know a sex offender when he heard about one. The teacher's office had been locked at the time, Frank broke it down with a kick. ESU had differing layers of security, the labs were top notch, but Geography classes weren't worth the extra price beyond a simple turnkey lock. The teacher though had placed a pad lock on the desk drawer.

'A drastic move to protect test sheets,' Frank thought.

He snapped the lock off and opened the drawer. Another layer of security for a locker box, Frank took out his knife and slid open the lock. As he suspected, some people were good at hiding their vices. Others needed trophies, and that was what Frank was seeing. Trophies and black mail material, naked husbands, wives, kids that this teacher was supposed to be protecting, not stripping. Frank took the photos and retreated to the far end of the room.

* * *

Gary's friends weren't used to being summoned late at night. They were called to his room, where they saw him with Elizabeth, Tanya and Kim. He smiled at the four boys as they entered.

"My friends," he said, the look in his eyes made them feel uneasy.

"Gary, what's going on, why call us here?" one of them asked.

"I've got a test tomorrow," another groaned.

"A practice, it's not as if the mark matters."

"Screw you Sam I take my classes seriously."

Gary took a few steps forward and raised his arms, catching their attention.

"I called you here guys because I trust you, you are the best friends I've ever had, I wanted you guys to be the first to enter the amazing universe I've become a part of. The most important part of," he explained and the four looked at him sceptically.

"Are you all right Gary?" one of them asked.

"You sound high," commented another.

"I've had my eyes opened, to the dangerous and terrifying things that are on their way. True things will rise, Avengers, Champions, Defenders and Guardians, all to face them. But not even the return of gods, the return of titans and arrival of transformers will tip the balance, for there are darker things out there than gods of mischief and death, than devourers of worlds and mad titans," Gary balled his fists as he spoke, Liz and the other girls walking around the classroom. "There are embodiments of darkness and light, caught in a war that will consume our reality."

One of Gary's friends laughed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry but this is ridiculous," he said and turned to the door.

But much to his shock, Liz had locked it and was standing there blocking it.

"I need people to help me fight back the darkness, I've chosen you four," Gary said.

He gagged and the four boys looked at their friend in shock. A shock that turned to horror as they saw a bulge work its way up his throat. Gary opened his mouth, black, spider like appendages came out of his mouth. The limbs were scaly though, black and oily. Then the creature the legs were attached to came out, a insect like creature, a cross between a centipede and a prawn. Its mandibles clicked and the creature let out a chirp. But it wasn't alone, four more creatures crawled their way out of Gary's mouth, working their way down his body and then across the floor.

"Oh god," one of the boys muttered.

"Stay back!"

"GET US OUT OF HERE!"

They fell over desks, rushed to the floor, cried and even fought back. Aaron watched the boys struggle, one trying to hold grab the creature. But it seemed to slither through his grip like a snake, before going down his throat. Another boy crawled across the floor, feeling the creature on his back, he screamed before the monster crawled into his mouth. The third boy was then infected, and the fourth trying to break down the door let out a horrific scream.

"Uatu, what exactly was he talking about? What is this?" Aaron asked his benefactor.

"He speaks of events to come, as well as arrivals that are not really unique to this universe. There was a time the arrivals and returns he spoke of existed in other universes in this Multiverse, but they were forgotten due to reality warps. You will come to know them one day Aaron, as for this power within the boy, he does no realise it, but it is the darkness he speaks of," Uatu explained.

Gary let out a sigh of ecstasy, feeling the light fill his friends. The creatures wormed their way through their bodies, in actuality filling them with a type of dark matter, not related to physics but something scientists would struggle to explain. This darkness was coating their organs, before the parasites seeped into their brain stems. Inside their bodies, the creatures grew, rooting into their spinal columns, seeping through cracks in their skulls, fusing with their brains. It was a gentle act of recruitment into what Gary perceived as his grand plan to save the universe.

That was when Gary noticed the shadow at the door.

Faith broke off into a run, she had been worried about Elizabeth, and after finding nothing in her room decided to search the campus. She recalled all the places that Gary and his friends would hang out. There was a lecture room near the Geography department, and when Faith made his way there, she saw the horrified screams of the people inside the classroom. So she ran, ran as fast as she could down the corridor.

"FAITH!" he heard Gary call after her.

Whatever had happened to Gary, he had become dangerous. Every instinct in Faith's mind told her that Gary was up to something, the screams were not from some accident. No broken bone, no fall, no strike from a fist, this was something far more sinister, and her first instinct was to run and tell someone. She had no idea who, she had no idea what would happen after but she felt that the more people knew of what Gary was doing the better. Suddenly, cracks began to appear on the floor ahead. Faith slid to a halt as a figure came out of the ground. She recognised the body and face as Elizabeth's, but her skin and hair was grey, some kind of 'rock' one piece had formed on her chest, a metallic Halo formed behind her.

"Don't be afraid Faith, you see me as I am, as what only Gary our Saviour could make me, embrace his change..."

Suddenly, Faith slammed her fist into Elizabeth's face, knocking her down. She continued running after that.

"What you thought this was a horror movie where the villain can't get decked?" she asked over her shoulder before rushing through the exit doors.

"Why did you hit her Faith?"

She looked to her side and saw a man in golden armour. The helmet slid apart, revealing a gold skinned Gary.

"What the hell is this Gary?" Faith demanded.

"I'm going to save the universe Faith, as the hero of this story I am destined to, and you as one of my great loves will join me," Gary said.

Faith shook her head in disgust, before Gary threw his hand forward. His gauntleted hand shifted, becoming a black and oil tentacle that wrapped around Faith, slamming her against the wall. She gasped and screamed as Gary threw her through a window.

Frank looked up from his work, hearing the crash, hearing the scream. This mission wasn't as important as a person's life.

Peter groaned as he rolled on his bed. He'd heard the scream, heard a crashing sound, like a great big boom.

"Five minutes please," he groaned.

The he remembered something, something important he was told long ago. He picked up his mask and got from his drawer an old blue hoodie.

Warren had very good hearing, it came from his mutation. He needed to hear things over wind currents, the scream was the first thing he heard. Then he heard the boom.

"Looks like this wasn't a waste of time after all," he huffed.

Faith felt a searing pain on her face. It was worse than the groan of her body as she rose. Blood dripped onto the floor and she put a hand to the bridge of her nose. She gasped in horror, feeling the shard of glass sticking to her skin. The tentacles slipped through the window and pulled her out of the building.

"Your face, don't worry, I can heal it, I can make you perfect Faith," Gary said, moving his hand to touch her skin.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot, a bullet struck Gary's helmet and made him flinch. He looked towards the shooter, seeing Frank Castle, his pistol aimed at him.

"Let her go," Frank growled, almost feral like, the anger in his eyes barely concealed.

A web then struck Gary's eyes, forcing him to drop Faith. Another moment and Angel landed, kicking Gary in the chest. Angel shielded Faith with her wings, snorting when Spider-man came down in his hoodie, mask and underwear.

"Suit in the laundry?" he asked.

"Kind of have to rush when you hear a scream," Spider-man said.

"You took the time to find an ugly ass hoodie, but not to find pants, also red and white underwear? Who wears that?"

Gary ripped the webbing off of his face, looking at the two masked men protecting Faith. Frank joined them, removing the sawn off from his jacket.

"He with you?" Spider-man motioned his head to Frank.

"I don't think he's with anyone," Angel muttered.

Gary narrowed his eyes at the three men, seeing them in very different suits. Spider-man in a red and blue outfit, Angel in a blue mask and yellow shirt and Frank in a black suit with white gloves and boots with a white skull on his shirt. Liz landed beside him, followed by Tanya. Tanya's own form had changed, her skin and hair had turned green and a green crystal one piece covered her. Vines coiled around her, and a halo made of crystal formed behind her.

"This is wrong, so wrong and misogynistic, three men coming to save a damsel in distress, so misogynistic," she said.

The three heroes traded confused glances, Angel mouthing 'WTF'.

"Fuck, you're one of those over sensitive idiots!"

The three infected looked behind them. Standing ready for a fight were two girls. One had grey trousers and wore a tank top, blue bands were around her wrists and she had blue on the tips of her black hair. Next to her, standing a little shorter than her was a less muscular girl. She had ginger hair and wore a yellow shirt, covering her eyes was a black mask with yellow lenses and cat ears on them. The girl also wore fingerless gloves and two belts over her jeans.

"Now now Jess, I'm a proud supporter, in fact, the Marvellous Jewel and Hellcat are all for equality," the girl's nails suddenly grew longer as she assumed a fighting stance.

"We are not calling ourselves that, besides, fuck politics...let's just kick ass!" Jessica Jones slammed her fist into the palm of her hand and jumped towards Gary.

Next Chapter 11: Chaos at ESU

* * *

A new chapter, with some teasers and introductions.

Yukimura: The mentor of Sven, you'll find out the things he taught Sven in later chapters and their past history together. He's based on the protagonists of early Japanese super hero series (like Kamen Rider and the Sentai series) along with the common anime mentor archetype.

Frank Castle: He was introduced in the first chapter, here he returns. I took a lot of inspiration from Jon Bernthal's portrayal of the character.

Gary and the infected: You saw some of the ways they get infected, but their transformed forms are supposed to look heavenly or heroic, but underneath is a different story.

Hellcat and Jewel: Their looks were inspired by the Avengers Academy mobile game. They're sort of the odd couple at college, Hellcat's very active and passionate about certain movements and subjects, and Jessica's more laid back, doesn't care either way.

Next time five heroes face off against the infected, whilst Sven's search for his teacher draws him to the chaos.


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 11: Chaos at ESU

Sven remembered a time he was supposedly weak, the times that Arthur put him under the tutelage of Yukimura Minami. It was a time when the man would just beat him down, and show him how weak he truly was.

 _"You think fighting is about style, about the tutelage of great masters, there are soldiers whom can beat martial artists, street fighters who can beat assassins, learning to fight and learning to kill are two different things. You have no wish to kill, so I will teach you to fight, come, again,"_ Yukimura told him.

Again and again Sven was shown flaws in how he punched, flaws in how he stood and even flaws in how he got back up.

 _"These people you read of were good fighters, not because they had completely mastered a style, but because they had the strength and imagination to create those styles in the first place. Fighting is not just about the style, remember that."_

But the power that was inside Sven, he knew he wouldn't master it through study of martial arts. His skill in that regard was lack lustre anyway. Walking the streets of the city, Sven kept an eye out for his master, for any sign of the white scarf. He walked into an alleyway and sat down, he was getting tired, but he knew if he didn't find that book then he wouldn't be able to continue onwards. His search was dependent on the book and the clues accumulated within it. Sven checked his wallet for cash, then his watch, there probably wouldn't be a place available to serve food, but there would at least be a place he could get something to drink.

From a nearby rooftop, Yukimura stood with his arms crossed. He huffed, looking down at Sven and his hopeless expression. Time and time again he remembered the tears of frustration Sven had when he couldn't master a lesson. Truly Sven Reilly was weak, yet he had inherited something great. Not that power, but something Yukimura suspected even Sven hadn't fully comprehended yet. As he was now, he was wasting what gave him the potential to be strong. Yukimura removed the book from his pocket and looked over it. Though burning it might teach Sven a lesson about holding onto cherished things, the world would be put in danger because of it. The world depended on Sven being able to solve the cases his father left behind.

 _"Don't give up boy, don't you dare give up,"_ Yukimura whispered.

* * *

ESU

The Saviour raised his arms, beginning to levitate off of the floor. Frank however was more focused on the girl. She was a fighter, she wasn't crying despite the pain she must have been in. Or it hadn't set in yet, that glass shard on the bridge of her nose would leave a scar. Contrary to popular belief, soldiers would not just disregard civilians. At least Frank wouldn't, he let the super powered masked men rush the saviour. Then he picked the girl up off of the ground and began moving out of the fight.

"Stay away from her," one of the girl's hissed.

She was the tree elemental, at least that's the best way Frank could describe her. Another was freak, vines extended from her wrists. Except these vines had razor sharp blades attached to them. Frank felt one cut his back, tearing his jacket. He quickly turned, firing his shotgun and hitting the girl's belly with a few slugs. She screamed, the flesh rend from her side. But new skin began to grow on it, becoming like the slow motion videos of a plant growing. A flower sprouted from her skin. Suddenly, it spat a blob of yellow liquid from its bud. Frank cursed as the fluid caught the sleeve of his jacket. He knew the burn of acid, but he also knew a weapon when he needed one. Slipping the jacket off, he threw the sleeve side at the flower girl. Bringing her arm up, a vine burst out of the ground.

"Stupid, just like a man," she sneered.

Suddenly, a flurry of bullets flew through the jacket, piercing her breast, knee cap and neck. Her green blood oozed onto the ground, and she backed away from Frank and his charge. Frank slid reloaded his shotgun and aimed down the sight at his target. Without a quip, he pulled the trigger. The slugs ripped the girl's arm, leaving it dangling off of the elbow. She screamed, flying back and nursing her wound.

"Impossible, he doesn't have powers, and he's an imperfect hero, he has yet to benefit from my impact on his life," Saviour said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Angel demanded, flying at Gary.

Angel swiped his left wing at Saviour, making him tilt his head back. As he did, Spider-man jumped towards him. Slamming his foot into Saviour's face, Spider-man stepped off of his target and launched himself into the air. Angel followed through with the assault, trying to catch Saviour in the back with his wing. But Saviour grabbed his wing and held him in place.

"Your wings aren't supposed to break yet, I'm supposed to save you," Saviour whispered and Angel looked at him in confusion. "Save you from the darkness that Apo..."

"SPIDER DIVE!" Spider-man yelled, slamming into Saviour.

"My love," Elizabeth gasped.

"Focus on us," Jessica said.

She threw her fist at the Earth elemental, only for a wall of stone to block it. Elizabeth unleashed blasts of fire from her hands, forcing Jessica to side step and dive out of the way. Hellcat rolled and pounced on all fours, dodging each blast. She kicked Elizabeth across the face and slid across the floor, quickly jumping to avoid a rock spike. Hellcat flipped back again and again, dodging the flurry of spikes that Elizabeth brought up from the ground. She stumbled at the fifth set however, falling back.

"So much for cats landing on their feet," Jessica said, grabbing Hellcat's arm.

Jessica had flown, much to Elizabeth's shock. But she wasn't exactly graceful, knocking into a nearby fence.

"Really need to practice the flying Jess," Hellcat said.

"Oh yeah I'll get working on that never!" Jessica retorted.

Saviour fired a blast from his hand, hitting Spider-man in the chest and throwing him to the ground. Spider-man shook his head, then yelped as two flytrap monsters snapped their jaws at him. He rolled, dodging the jaws before jumping to his feet and back flipping away. As he did, he knocked into Jessica and Hellcat.

"Amateurs," the Flower girl laughed.

But Spider-man's spider senses hadn't gone off. He had planned it, shooting a web line into Jessica's hand, he swung, hammer throwing Jessica into Flower girl. She hit her with the impact with a cannon, shaking the ground and knocking the Flower girl through a wall.

"Please tell me that wasn't the pool," Spider-man said.

"Nope, basketball court," Hellcat said.

"Oh thank god, because the pool would have been disastROUS!" he yelped, jumping to avoid Elizabeth's fire blast.

Hellcat ran and jumped over the fence into the tennis court, dodging Elizabeth's blasts. Angel swooped downwards, catching Elizabeth's attention. She fired one blast after another, yelling frustration before gathering energy into her hands and unleashing a blast. But just as she did, Saviour flew at Angel and grabbed him by his neck. The blast slammed into Saviour's back, drawing a yell of pain from him, enough to let go of Angel and give the X-man an opening to smack him with his wing.

"I'm so sorry my love," Elizabeth cried out.

"It is all right," Saviour said, flying a few feet higher.

He retracted his mask, revealing a smiling face.

"This fight is not necessary, we are all heroes here, even you Frank Castle, and no matter what you believe Jess, you are a hero too, no matter what was done to you. I am destined to help you all, to save you all from your inner demons!" he opened his arms like some angelic figure. "I am after all the he..."

BLAM!

The bullet cut through his jaw, dislodging it. He clutched his lower mouth, black ink leaking from his wound. Frank stood below, his pistol barrel smoking.

"It's not up to you what people do with their demons," he huffed, putting on the safety and wedging it through his belt. "SPIDER!"

Spider-man hit Elizabeth in the eyes with a web, and then jumped and swung to Frank's side.

"There anything in that webbing of yours that'll infect a wound?" Castle asked.

"Nope, and it'll dissolve after an hour, I think I know what you've got planned," Spider-man said.

"This is the deepest, on three, one two, three," Frank pulled the glass shard out of Faith's nose.

Spider-man sprayed the webbing over the bridge of her nose, forming an effective dressing. Frank then addressed Faith's sprained ankle. He broke apart his shot gun, using the barrel as part of a splint. Then, much to Spider-man's shock, Frank ripped the sleeves off of his hoodie. The hero looked at the change to his hoodie and hummed.

"You know, this actually makes it better," he said.

Frank tied the two sleeves around the splint and helped Faith onto her feet.

"Let's get you as far away from here as we can," Frank spoke more softly than he usually did.

"No you won't," a voice growled behind them.

Frank narrowed his eyes in frustration. Saviour was walking towards them, his jaw slowly fixing itself back onto his face. His mask slid around his head and he squeezed his hand into a fist.

"Give me back, the woman I love," he said.

"Gary, I don't love you, I've never loved you, I never will love you!" Faith snapped, glaring at Saviour through the pain.

"No don't say that, you and I are meant to be, just like so many are meant to be with me, not just lovers but friends, I will befriend all the marvels, all...of...them," Saviour's movements began to slow.

A cold mist had surrounded him. He looked over his shoulder and saw, standing with arms outstretched, Iceman.

"You know, you're not looking like a very good friend, the worst I get from Beast and Angel are them hogging all the pan cakes," the young X-man said.

* * *

An hour earlier

Bobby sat tapping a pen against the desk. He was bored stiff, fidgeting, and irritating the other two.

"Drake, would you stop that already," Emma snarled.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to kill the time, damn, why go off without me?"

"Are you seriously asking that question?" Todd asked.

"I'm an X-man!"

"Oh please, you're all X-boys at best, you guys have know each other for what? A year at best? Don't expect a lasting friendship from that," Emma said.

"Well I wouldn't go that far, a year is a pretty long time," Todd muttered. "But I think the point she's trying to make is that you guys haven't been at this long, out of all of them you're the youngest."

"But out of all of them I'm the most powerful," Bobby said.

Todd and Emma looked at him in confusion.

"Oh, well get this, the professor told me not long after my first training session, I'm a class five mutant, an omega level," Bobby stated.

A moment passed, before Todd and Emma began laughing.

"I am," Bobby said, blushing in embarrassment.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Todd and Emma both stood their ground, whilst Bobby remained casual as he walked to it. He was confident he could act ignorant if it wasn't anyone they knew. Fortunately, it was someone they knew, Sage stood at the doorway, dressed in a black coat with keys in her hand.

"Charles sent me to retrieve you," she said.

"Finally, I've been going stir crazy wondering what trouble the others are getting into," Bobby said.

"Come, we must hurry," Sage said.

Emma and Todd grabbed their jackets and made their way out with Bobby. They followed Sage through the alleyways, coming to a stop at the sidewalk, where a van was parked. Bobby lingered behind the group, looking down the street and imagining the path the other X-men had taken to their objectives. Sage got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Get in," she commanded.

"I'm sorry Sage, but I can't do it," Bobby said.

Sage raised her eyebrows curiously. The young X-man turned and looked at Todd and Emma through the window.

"Maybe we aren't a team just yet, but they are my friends, and I can't stand by and watch as they get hurt. Scott split us apart, but that isn't the way, Xavier trained us to work together to protect people, so why not do that together?" he asked.

Sage remained silent for a moment, then nodded her head.

"Very well, do as you please, I will inform Charles of your intent," she said.

Bobby smiled, pumping his fist before breaking off into a run.

"I'll see you guys back at the mansion," he said.

Sage began driving, a smirk crossing her lips.

* * *

Present time

Iceman stood in his snow form, cold steam rushing from his hands. The blast hit Saviour, making him step back a few paces. Angel smirked, swooping down towards Saviour. He dodged the last of Saviour's tentacle, and Iceman did the same. Iceman focused his blasts on the weapon, turning it blue with the assault of his powers. Angel crossed his wings in midair, blocking the tentacle. Having been frozen, the tentacle shattered and Saviour widened his eyes in shock. He was in the right, he was the hero, losing was an impossibility. Angel then followed through with the assault and kicked Saviour in the chest, knocking him to the floor.

"Got tired of playing Temple Runner?" Angel asked.

"Please, you know how much time I invested in Dragon Age Heroes," Iceman grinned. "So what are we dealing with here?"

"Our other New Mutant, Gary Stewarts," Angel said.

"Really?"

"That's what the girl said."

"What was his mutation again?" Iceman asked.

"Unconfirmed by the professor, physical I'm guessing," Angel stated, narrowing his eyes as Saviour got off of the floor.

"I'm so much more than any label Archangel," Saviour snarled.

"Archangel? That sounds a lot cooler."

"Shut up Ice boy," Angel huffed.

"Iceman," his fellow X-man corrected him.

"No, still Ice boy, always Ice boy, but I can teach you, I can show you just how powerful you really are," Saviour said.

He extended his hand, releasing a blast of pure force that threw Angel and Iceman back. Angel's wings flailed with his body and he slammed into the ground. Iceman managed to stay on his feet, only for a vine to tie around his waist. He was lifted off of the ground and swung around. Iceman began reducing the temperature of the vine, trying to turn it into ice. But before he could do it, Hellcat slashed the vine apart. Jessica then flew and caught Iceman.

"You all are beneath him, he can help you ascend," Elizabeth said.

"Wait a minute, she's flying now," Jessica gasped before Elizabeth hit her with a fire blast.

She and Iceman slammed into the ground, leaving Frank and Faith vulnerable. He fired his pistol at Saviour, who took the bullets and continued walking towards them. Spider-man stepped between them, crouching, one hand on the ground and the other behind him.

"You want to get to them, then you go through me first," he challenged.

Elizabeth and the Plant girl landed beside Saviour, the man crossing his arms and huffing. But despite the show of force, Spider-man didn't back down. Nor did Faith, she stood as proud as she could despite her injuries. Her eyes were defiantly set against Saviour, against whatever Gary had become. Spider-man leapt at Saviour, throwing a punch towards his face. But Saviour swung his fist out, making Spider-man's head recoil back. He then kneed Spider-man in the gut, making the young hero stumble back. Aaron watched the young man set his feet on the ground and try to attack Saviour again. But again he endured a flurry of blows that echoed through the courtyard. Saviour grabbed Spider-man by his neck and lifted him off of the ground.

"You're not taking this seriously Peter," Saviour said, causing the eyes on Spider-man's mask to widen.

Then they narrowed in fury and he locked his feet around Saviour's arm. Tilting his body back, he fired a web into the ground, using his weight to pull Saviour with him to the ground. Saviour however opened the fingers of his other hand, preparing an energy blast. Suddenly, Jessica tackled him, grabbing his arm and keeping it raised.

"Just how strong is she?" Aaron wondered.

"I suspect not even she knows the true source of her power, and just how strong she can be, if she allows herself to be," Aaron heard the Watcher whisper.

He saw the young woman actually crush some of Saviour's armour. He unleashed the blast from his hand, the heat of it was making Jessica yell in pain, her skin boiled but did not blister. The blast flew high, and Aaron suspected that soon, he would not be the only witness to this battle.

* * *

She looked out through the rear view mirror.

"My god, you think the X-men are in the middle of that?" Todd asked.

"I suspect they will be soon enough," Emma said.

'Sage' looked to her phone, a message had come through.

 _"Know you're busy, but we need to talk, signs are beginning to show,"_ the message read.

The real Sage had no one in her life besides Charles. At least that's what her research revealed, even with her mutation, she still had to carefully watch, study and practice in order to carry out a convincing 'performance'. There were limits of course, there was only so much she could research. But the deception was sufficient, she suspected she knew more about Sage than the X-men and probably Charles himself. She looked at her phone, another unknown, but she always knew who was texting.

 _"Little change of plans concerning Stewarts, may have to meet up later!"_

She shook her head, that man could be frustrating. Still she preferred his view of the world.

* * *

Magnus had been reading when he saw the blast. He had no patience for young people's 'night life' so he was going to wait for the party in the club to finish. Recruiting Alison Blaire was important, but then there was the issue of Gary Stewarts. He had proven difficult to track, and the energy pillar had caught Magnus's eye. Blaire could wait, Magnus decided. He began walking down the street, removing his hat. As he did, metal creaked around him and electricity sparked around him. People seldom realised the connection between electronic pulses and magnetism, there was a reason they were called electromagnetic pulses. Energy swirled around him, and particles flew towards him. The metal formed a suit around his body, metal plates protecting his sides, gauntlets formed on his arms and metallic boots on his feet. A studded ring formed underneath his neck and on his shoulders, a cloak suddenly flowed out of the ring and flapped behind Magnus. His hat was shredded apart, instead becoming a metallic helmet with an open face, it curved slightly to protect the forehead and cheeks. Slowly, Magnus levitated off of the ground and put on his helmet.

* * *

Tony too had witnessed the blast of light. He knew energy, and that was not like the discharge of his arc reactor or repulsors. The scientist in him was fascinated, the other part of himself just couldn't deal with it right now. He was still holding the case with his armour in, that was something he would never let go if he could help it. But in his other hand was the demon, no, the bottle, he had to admit. The bottle was just a container for the demon.

'Damn you Stark,' he thought.

It had not been his first bottle that night. He poured the quarter that was left out and dropped the bottle. Then he held out his case and activated the armour, his limbs shaking as the 'armour up' sequence began. He had to concentrate hard, because his less than sober state was not helping the computer put on his armour.

* * *

Charles had been close by as well, doing a fly by in the Blackbird. He could sense an immense turmoil in that area, the struggles of heroes. In his book, people who overcame fear to do what was right, even if it meant they could die were heroes. And death was something that occurred in all of their minds. Then there were the other minds, delusional, high with the powers they had suddenly been given. One in particular had growing pockets of information in his mind. Information unlike anything Charles had seen before.

'A Multiverse-fascinating and terrifying at the same time,' he thought.

Reaching out with his power, he touched each mind, giving them added motivation. Just a push, that's all, to keep them fighting on against the...

'Wait a minute, why is Bobby there?' Xavier gasped. "Magnus, you sneaky son of..."

"BITCH!" Elizabeth yelled, slamming Hellcat against a wall.

"LET HER GO!" Angel yelled back, shoulder barging her.

He grabbed Hellcat's hand and flew upwards, dodging the flurry of blasts that the fire elemental released. Elizabeth levitated several rocks off of the ground, and then turned them into molten rocks. Launching the projectiles, she was able to graze Angel's wing, causing him to tumble onto one of the rooftops. He landed with his wing sheltering Hellcat.

"Thanks, does it hurt?" she asked.

"I've had worse, something tells me we're outmatched here," he grinned.

She smiled back, offering him her hand.

"Want to go back down there and play hero again?"

He took her hand, and she suddenly jumped off of the roof. Trusting in her abilities, Angel swooped after her.

 **"Let me coordinate you Angel!"** Xavier's voice echoed in his mind.

"Is that..."

 **"Young lady the 'god' joke is getting old, trust Angel and let him take your hands."**

'He can take a lot more than my hands, I wouldn't mind catching that bird!'

 **"Perhaps clear your mind of such things as well, you too Angel, focus!"**

Angel grabbed Hellcat's hands. Before they reached the ground, Angel pulled up and threw her. She flipped into a ball, adding to her momentum. Then she slammed into Elizabeth, throwing her into the wall. Angel kept on flying forward, pulling his fist back and punching Elizabeth in the face.

 **"Now Iceman!"**

'Yay, finally someone who calls me Iceman,' the young X-man thought.

He was continued to brittle the plant elemental's vines and other attempts to bind him. Releasing a cloud of cold steam, he managed to freeze and shatter a leaf shield she had made. Growling in anger, she raised her hands, throwing Iceman into the air with a tree she summoned from the ground.

 **"Her abilities have the potential to be Omega level, and her control is improving because the techniques she need are being fed into her mind. You have the same Omega potential Iceman, but you must concentrate. Plants are living things, they require a stable temperature,"** Xavier explained.

'All right Prof, here it goes,' Iceman thought.

He broke out of the trees grip and began forming an ice slide. Iceman twisted the slide, dodging the vine whips that the Elemental used. A whip of thorns formed in her hand and she wrapped it around Iceman's waist when he landed on the ground.

"You want to get close, fine then," he grinned.

For a moment, he appeared again in his human form, the whip drawing blood from his waist. He rushed forward, grabbing the Elemental by her shoulders.

"You've got a green hand, but I've got cold ones," he said.

The boy's eyes glowed blue, cold steam coming out of his mouth. The ground beneath him began to freeze, and pillars of ice suddenly burst out of the ground. Particles of snow fell around the area and Angel and Hellcat looked towards the centre of the ice pillars. The plant elemental was on the ground, her skin blue and shivering. Iceman however was standing over her, looking at the ice around him in surprise.

"Wow, I'm Omega level," he said.

Angel and Hellcat both tilted their heads sceptically.

 **"Spider-man, Jessica Jones!"**

'This guy again,' Spider-man thought.

'Who the fuck is in my head?'

 **"Young lady, that kind of language is not necessary!"**

'Then get the fuck out of my head ass hole, get out,' Jessica tried to get Saviour's arm in a lock, only for him to head butt her.

'I'm not exactly comfortable having someone in my head either, but trust me, he's here to help,' Spider-man latched a web onto Saviour's arm, aiming it towards the ground.

 **"Let me help you coordinate, his power his increasing, you need to bring him down now,"** Xavier explained.

Saviour slammed Spider-man into the ground, once, then twice and then a third time. But Spider-man was still enduring, holding onto Saviour's arm. An arm that began to glow.

"Oh crap," the masked hero said.

"We need to move now," Frank said, helping Faith to move towards one of the school buildings.

Saviour aimed the palm of his hand at the building. Spider-man placed his feet on the ground and moved his arm up.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you're going to get someone killed," he said.

"I'll just bring them back from the dead," Saviour said.

He brought his other arm around, the palm of it glowing. But just when he was about to blast Spider-man, Jessica grabbed his wrist and got him into the arm lock.

 **"Now Spider-man, push his arm against his chest and tie your webs around him!"**

Spider-man delivered a punch to Saviour's face, pushing his arm across his chest. With his free hand, he hit Saviour's chest with enough weapon to bind his arm. Then he jumped over Saviour, webbing up the arm that Jessica was able to trap. Jessica threw Saviour into the air, and Spider-man fired a line onto Saviour's back. He gave Jessica the line and she threw upwards, spinning around, building up momentum before she swung Saviour like a mace face first into the ground. She landed beside Spider-man, spitting on the ground.

"Consider that an excuse to stay out of my head ass hole," she said.

Saviour looked to where Faith was supposed to be, and saw only the door that Frank had broken down. He narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth together beneath his helmet. With a bellow he stood up, releasing a wave of energy from his body. It rushed through Iceman, Angel and Hellcat as they tried to aid Jessica and Spider-man, throwing them back. Spider-man and Jessica were thrown back, Jessica herself able to endure the energy. She was left dazed by the blast however, leaving her vulnerable to a punch in the gut from Saviour. He grabbed her by her head and drove her knee into her stomach. Then he brutally and mercilessly slammed her head against the ground twice before he swung her around and held her by her neck.

"You're so bitter, hurt...and...and...you know what Jessica I'm just going to say what everyone thinks, you act like a complete and utter bitch, but I can change that, our friendship, and much more will change that Jessica Jones," Saviour slid his helmet up and moved his lips towards her.

'NO NOT AGAIN!' Jessica screamed in her mind.

 **"STOP IT GARY!"**

Gary suddenly found himself in his human form. Jessica was gone, as were the other heroes.

"This is not you Gary, none of this is you," Charles said, appearing behind Saviour.

"Did you gleam that from my mind Xavier?" Gary asked.

"It seems my reputation precedes me," Charles hid his surprise well.

Aaron looked at his surroundings in shock that was equal to what Gary had.

"The Astral plane, this is the plane of existence that links all psychics together, regardless of the origin of their powers," the Watcher elaborated.

"I have been shown infinity Xavier, many worlds," Gary clapped his hands together and when he released them, ESU faded away.

In its place was space, an entire galaxy. But images swirled around Charles and Gary. And Charles saw what he could only describe as himself. He saw himself but older, in a green business suit, his X-men too were all in yellow and blue uniforms that seemed more baggy than what his X-men wore, but they also had swash buckle style boots and had yellow tights on the uniforms too. He saw another image of a town called Bayville, with X-men, some he didn't recognise, most of their uniforms black with X's on the shoulders. Charles blinked in confusion, seeing Patrick Stewart and a few other actors in black leather uniforms.

"Picard, I never would have thought that for me, and is that the guy from Les Miserables?" Charles shook his head, seeing by the side of that image James McCavoy in a wheelchair.

"Some with small differences, some with large ones, some with altered rates of time. There are even worlds where the most important similarities between the others don't apply, worlds where yours and Magneto's roles are reversed, worlds where one of you is dead, worlds where you never even met, even worlds where you do not fight for the world that hates and misunderstands you," Gary explained, wiping away the images. "I have seen these worlds, and I have seen you Charles Xavier, in nearly all of them, you are egotistical, even hypocritical at times, and your X-men suffer because of your pride. Yet still you carry on because its right, even after all the corpses left in your wake."

They dropped down to Earth, and Charles looked to his mansion in horror. It was on fire, Sentinels, but ones very different from the ones he had encountered stomped over the wreckage. He saw an older Scott, pieces of ice that Charles guessed was Bobby, and older Jean but she was in some kind of green outfit with gold gloves and boots. There was Warren, but his wings were metal, his skin blue. Hank too, but in only a pair of trunks, covered in blue fur. Looking ahead of them, Charles saw piles of bodies of men and women from many walks of life, all of them wearing some kind of X-men uniform variant.

"So many of your students are going to die Charles, knowing this will you stop?" Gary asked.

"I cannot guarantee that this life will not take my students from me," Charles said, turning to face Gary.

The image of the galaxy appeared again, and Charles's clothes changed. A black suit formed around his body, with gloves and white bands on his arms. A white belt wrapped itself around his waist, and a white X formed around his chest and back.

"Nor can I say that the path I walk is the right one, I know it will thankless at times, and I know it may seem like there is no hope. But I will do my best to ensure that each of my students is as prepared as I am for what the future awaits. And to quote one of my favourite authors, 'Don't quit, never give up trying to make the world you can see, even if others can't see it..."

"Listen to your drum and your drum only, it's the one that makes the sweetest sound,' Simon Sinek, but it is a lie. I have been implanted with much knowledge Xavier, and I know that I am the hero that this world needs. My intentions are pure, led by my wisdom I will always make the right choice, I will always prevail. Your dream will fail Xavier, I have seen it fail time and time again. But I can help it succeed, I can help you make it succeed, not as an X-man, but as leader of the X-men," Gary explained.

He covered himself in his armour and threw his arms forward, forming portals that dark tendrils came out of. They stretched towards Charles, who remained still. He didn't even raise his hand to his head. When the tendrils were inches from him, a White X suddenly appeared, illuminating Gary. Hundreds of chains then stretched out of the X, wrapping around Gary's body, surrounding him in a cocoon of astral chains.

"I am sorry Gary, but clearly whatever you were infected with has affected your mind, your body also won't survive your ever increasing power levels. We need to end this fight now, and get you the help that you need son," Charles explained.

 **"Oh but you are wrong Charles, he will survive, if he has a little help!"** a voice echoed in the Astral plane.

The chains began to turn a deep purple colour, and outside of the Astral plane, within the real world Saviour's armour turned purple, black smoke rising from it. He growled, the centipede like creature stretching out of his mouth and slithering towards the fallen Jessica Jones. Spider-man shot a web on her shoulder and pulled her away from Saviour. He widened his eyes as the Centipede suddenly moved towards him. Saviour lashed the new appendage downwards to crush Spider-man. But a blur of red energy flew into Spider-man, throwing him out harm's way.

 _"_ _ **Marvellous!**_ _You've finally decided which is more important boy,"_ Yukimura said, looking down on the imminent battle.

Sven stood in front of Saviour, nervously turning to face him. He raised his hands, letting the power flow around him.

"I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else," he said.

Saviour stood still for a moment, the Centipede slithering into his mouth again. He just stood there, Sven still holding his ground. The armoured man's body twitched, his belly bulged for a moment, then his arms, then his throat. But his throat kept expanding like a frog's. Suddenly, a red and black tendril burst out of his mouth. The tendril expanded and stretched, appearing at first as a snake, then a centipede. Then the tendril shaped itself into a hand and swung towards Sven. He raised his arm, feeling the appendage impact with it. A sickening crack echoed like a gunshot in the courtyard and Sven was thrown through the wall beside him.

"I am the hero," Saviour whispered. "You're not hero," he snarled.

"Strange, not very heroic behaviour so far," a voice said above Saviour.

His cloak flapped in the breeze, light shining off of his helmet. He opened his hand, and a trio of metallic marbles began to float around him. Magneto narrowed his eyes at Gary Stewart's, knowing that the affect of his armour was not due to his powers.

'Whatever has happened Charles, you need to free that boy soon,' he thought.

In the Astral plane, the chains around Gary's astral self began to melt away. They slowly began shaping a muscular body.

 **"This boy has opened pathways Charles, pathways for others to come through, his mind, despite what he believes, is weak. He gave me a way in Charles,"** the voice continued to echo. **"It's been a long time, perhaps it is Karma that you lost your legs after taking my body from me."**

"Farouk," Xavier narrowed his eyes at the creature being formed in front of him.

 **"That is not my name!"**

"I will lock you back where you belong Amahl, you cannot take his body whilst he battles in the conscious realm as well," Xavier stated.

 **"I will certainly try, that is not my name, you robbed me of my body and my old self Charles. I have been stuck here, whilst you have formed and given life to your dream. I am not Amahl Farouk, kingpin of Cairo's thieves quarter, I have grown beyond that now!"  
**

"You lost your body, now you've lost yourself to the astral plane," Xavier said.

The creature's head stretched out of its body, yellow eyes glowing and its razor sharp teeth snarling.

 **"A fate I, the Shadow King will see you share Charles Xavier!"**

Next Chapter 12: Magnetism and Psionics

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time it'll be two side by side fights, Magneto and Xavier against the Shadow King, including a flashback sequence of Charles's first meeting with Amahl Farouk and sort of the first appearance of another famous X-men character.

Some things I thought up in this chapter and inspiration.

Magneto: In this, his first costumed appearance I drew inspiration from an armour that Magneto wore towards the end of the latest X-men Blue series.

Xavier: Whilst I was tempted to bring in his classic Conquistador styled Astral armour, I considered that more of a manifestation of his psionic abilities in the Astral plane and went with Xavier's costume as 'X' in the Astonishing X-men series.

Shadow King: He's been a villain in the Legion TV series, and one of the X-men's toughest foes in the comics, mainly because he's technically not a physical foe.

Multiverse: We briefly explore the Multiverse, with Gary's expanded knowledge and him sharing it with Charles. I used the Evolution cartoon series, the first movie series and the First class movie series, as well as the first era of X-men from the main comics.

This chapter also technically introduced another X-men character, if you guys figured it out.


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

Marvellous World

Chapter 12: Magnetism and Psionics

The past-Cairo

It was when Charles had a full head of hair. Before the tour of duty that would rob him of his legs, he had gone on holiday in Cairo. To achieve understanding of the world and different customs, Charles visited many places. He walked through the markets and just lost himself in the feeling of the minds around him. Standing within the centre of the market, he closed his eyes and reached out. None felt his low level scan, it was nothing truly invasive, not a scan of their thoughts but of the subconscious teachings and customs they held onto. To achieve peace in his time, Charles wanted to understand everyone. He even talked to people, even without his psychic abilities, he had been very good at discerning the kind of person someone was from a conversation. During his time there he spoke to working men and women seeking to provide for families, young labourers saving money to move across the seas, and holy men wishing to teach others of their faith. Before he had met Max, the idea of a force that could combat aggressive mutants was formed when he went to Cairo.

'Another two days in Cairo, and then I'll be returning to London for Braddock's conference, then back home to sort out the details on the mansion, and then onto Genosha,' Charles ran through his itinerary as he walked the streets.

Waving some of the sweat out of his hair, Charles fanned his face with his hat and moved on. As he did, a group of children passed him by. Some were locals, Arab children, but the one whom bumped into him most definitely wasn't a native child. Her skin indicated perhaps Kenyan ancestry, like the other children she was thin and marked by the street dirt. But separating her from them even more than her skin tone, was her shock white hair. It too had been marked by the dirt. Charles knelt to help the girl up. She regarded him for a moment, before getting up on her own and running off. The stubborn look in her eyes was one Charles recognised from his earlier private teaching career. She was a street girl, and despite being hungry had her pride.

'Oh Charles you fool,' he patted his pockets and grinned.

The girl had fallen behind her group, so it was easy for Charles to follow her. They came into the richer part of town, near a hotel that Charles had passed once or twice in the week. The girl had crossed the road onto the pavement, when she froze.

 **"Young lady, would you kindly drop my wallet, you may remove half of the cash from it,"** Charles regretted the invasion of her mind, he truly did.

But it was not a penetrative act, she had not fought him. It was more suggestion than command, Charles was able to get a few details from her surface thoughts.

'They'll lock you in the chest again if you don't bring something back, worse they may hurt the others,' her thoughts were American English, yet her heart yearned for the plains of Africa.

Her thoughts had been of others, not just her own fears. So Charles let her keep half of his cash, he just wanted his photos and his cards. Crossing the street, Charles picked up his wallet and put it back in his pocket. That's when he felt a sharp pain in his head. When he had recovered enough to get his bearings, he saw that the white haired girl had disappeared. He closed his eyes and focused, then he felt it, the surge of psionic power. To a psychic it was like a rush of wind, this psychic energy was like a tornado though. Charles had never felt power like that before. He was drawn to it, going into the hotel lobby. A grand fountain was set in the centre of the room. Two women were taking drinks orders, a local man in chaps, a jacket and sandals sat alone in the corner, glasses resting on his nose and a scotch glass in his hand. Two other men were sat around a large built individual, a bald man with a fez and round sunglasses. They discussed business in code, coordinating the movements of the street urchins they had taken under their wing. Charles set himself across from them, ordering a cup of tea for himself.

Of course he had been drawn to the rich man in the expensive suit. The man who clearly enjoyed the high life, a life of never going hungry and having others look at you in admiration. But there were other men, men who were feared, the kind of men who seemed small and insignificant. Yet they were the kind of men others feared to see, the kind they avoided looking at. That was the kind of man Charles knew he was dealing with. Not the man with all the rings and riches, but the smaller, unassuming looking man. The man who tilted his sunglasses up his nose, tilted the contents of his glass down his throat and smirked. The man who commanded authority, from the shadows.

 **"Impressive that you figured it out without your abilities Charles,"** he heard the local man's voice in his head.

Charles smiled at the girl serving him, lifting the tea to his lips, showing no sign of the intrusion into his mind. Both men seemed to be uninterested in one another, they hadn't even looked at each other for more than a few seconds. Yet, within the recesses of what was known as the astral plane, they were the only men in the hotel.

 **"It is most rude to enter my mind without permission,"** Charles said.

 **"Truly? Is that not what you have been doing the past few days, is that what you did to the girl earlier, she's a sharp one she is, not easily frightened...unless we have to bring out the box,"** the local man explained.

 **"When you're constantly afraid, it's a surface thought, and surface thoughts are quite easy to detect,"** Charles retorted.

 **"You make it sound as if thoughts are a voice, that they can be yelled out loudly,"** there was a scoff in the man's tone.

 **"Sometimes they are, to a telepath at least, people have ears and sometimes they can't help what they hear."**

 **"Is that what you tell yourself to justify your abilities and your misuse of them?"**

 **"I don't misuse my abilities,"** Charles held more anger in his thoughts then he meant to.

There was just something about this man that didn't sit right with him. His inner most thoughts and emotions seemed to be like a book to the telepath, whose control of his abilities was as impressive as Charles's, if not better. Beads of sweat ran down Charles's face, but in the astral plane, he shook in fear. All light seemed to be drawn out of the room for a moment, the world turned grey as the local man stood, his astral form separating from his body and walking, hands in pockets towards Charles's table. Time still moved and Charles perceived the ghostly forms of those in the real world. He saw the local man, still sitting at his seat and sipping his glass. He saw the girl welcoming new customers into the hall, saw the businessmen continuing their discussion. The astral form sat in front of him, removing his sunglasses and setting them on the table.

 **"Amahl Farouk, lovely to meet you Charles Xavier,"** the young man said, reaching his hand out to him.

 **"I haven't met another telepath before,"** Charles said.

 **"There are more of us than you'd think, the media likes to pretend we don't exist. They fear the kind of world where people can control others at a whim. I heard they've released a new classification system for us, just another way of labelling us really,"** Amahl explained.

 **"Or perhaps a way to better understand us, we're mutants, and many of us have awakened violently."**

 **"Yes, tragic really, but to be expected, the strong cannot take the world when they have to look after the weak,"** Amahl said.

 **"It should be the duty of the strong to protect the weak,"** Charles said.

 **"If the strong protect the weak, then the weak will always be weak, they will never learn anything. As I learnt one day that might makes right in this world,"** Amahl's frown dropped and a look of sadness, or rather a slither crossed his face. **"I am a son of this land, but my father was not, we moved to a part of the world that...that to this day still suffers."**

 **"Iraq!"**

 **"You see, you can use your powers."**

 **"I didn't need to use them Amahl."**

 **"When America rushed into Iraq, when they eventually brought down a dictator, they sang praise, America...fuck yeah, the heroes of the day. How many people do you think died to achieve that, how many innocents do you think were buried under the rubble when they arrived. I already struggled with my power, that day I learnt that might makes right, that the victor decides who is right,"** Amahl explained.

 **"That isn't the case at all, I don't deny that at one point that was the case. But we live in a world now where everyone's voice can be heard, or seen at least,"** Charles said.

 **"For all the good it does, all those in power need do is say 'fake news' and then it is dismissed."**

 **"It's not!"**

 **"It doesn't matter whether it is or not Charles. The point is that men with power, whom were prepared to do ruthless things to others created great things, beautiful things. Contrary to what you may think, oh no you don't think it..."**

 **"Get out of my head!"**

 **"I actually greatly admire America, I admire all of the great empires built up from nothing. These empires are what drove history forward, but every empire must fall. Just as every species must eventually die out so that their rightful replacements in the evolutionary chain can take their place!"**

 **"Scientifically speaking we don't even know if we are a part of evolution."**

 **"And what's the alternative, seeing ourselves as a disease, Charles, we can do incredible things. But we aren't allowed to, we won't be allowed to so long as ignorance is allowed to prosper. We must be willing to force change if we have to, and that means doing deplorable things,"** Amahl explained.

 **"Like what you do to that girl when she fails you, drawing on her fear of being trapped?"**

 **"Fear works, it gets results, I don't care for understanding as you seem to, I've lived with fear for most of my life. The kind of fear we both know is different from the others. My father was weak, he loved me unconditionally. You are a child of privilege, the white, blonde haired, blue eyed, rich boy who was the apple of mother's eye, the talk of the class room!"**

 **"You're wrong Amahl, I know fear, and whilst I may not fully understand suffering from racial hatred, I have seen what it can do to people. I've seen the bruises, I've seen the bitterness it creates in those afflicted. That's why I walk from the streets of Harlam to the planes of Africa and beyond, so that I can understand, so that I can use that knowledge to make a better world, not through fear but understanding,"** Charles explained.

 **"Fear works better Charles, fear is what your dear step father used to keep you and your step brother in line,"** Amahl grinned as he spoke.

 **"Get out of my head!"**

 **"He beat Cain more than he beat you didn't he? Your dear old mother let him hurt Cain, but never you if she could help it, such a sad woman to choose love over the protection of our own son, over helping another child living with fear. Did that not teach you Charles that people only truly care for themselves."**

 **"GET OUT!"**

Charles's psychic roar turned the astral plane into a galaxy, stars exploding around them, planets becoming incinerated, singularities forming and meteors breaking apart. Through the storm of psychic energy, Charles and Amahl floated in front of one another. Charles was struggling, his clothes fluttering, skin moving from the pressure and force generated. Farouk though stood calm, chuckling and raising his hands.

 **"You certainly have power Charles, but you lack the will, you think a path of nonviolence can change the world. It is admirable, and I truly wish that the pen was mightier than the sword I truly do. But nature has shown otherwise,"** a dark silhouette towered over Farouk's astral form.

It was some kind of armoured warrior, with the face of a monster.

 **"I had hoped you would join me Charles, I need strong men to build the future and I see that strength in you. But clearly you'll be more of an obstacle with your foolish ideals, you should have stayed away Charles!"** Amahl and the creature snarled.

Charles's astral form yelled, shielding his body as tendrils of psionic energy lashed out at him. He grit his teeth together, squeezed his hands into fists and yelled in agony. His clothes were ripped, flesh peeled away, bones reduced to ash. But then he reformed, holding on to his sense of self and keeping his astral self locked to his body. Farouk though had completely separated his consciousness from his body, the slither of consciousness operating the flesh like an autopilot system. Charles knew that his attachment to his own physical form was all that kept him from truly dying. But he also knew that in order to stop Farouk's attack, he needed to let go, for just a moment.

 **"I saw something that was wrong, your treatment of that girl, I couldn't stand by and watch. And I won't stand by whilst you threaten to force your will on others,"** determination dominated his entire building.

With a yell he struck out with everything he had. His psionic energy struck Farouk's astral self, causing him to scream. The armour of the creature shattered, revealing the true monster underneath. And what was left of Amahl's humanity began to sink, sink into the deepest and darkest depths of the astral plane.

Charles opened his eyes, and saw a crowd of people gathered around Amahl's table. The criminals had long left, staff were calling paramedics. Charles looked over the shoulder of a tourist, and saw what he had done to Amahl. Or at least Amahl's body, he had been thrown from his chair, his left side became loose, his mouth sagged and fluid dribbled out of his lips. But his eyes were what truly told Charles the effects of his psionic attack. There was nothing in Amahl's eyes, truly nothing. What appeared to science and doctors to be a stroke and brain death, was something Charles feared to be much worse. If he used his powers, he could still feel the slither of Amahl's mind trying to break out of its prison. After playing dumb to the authorities, Charles tried to find the white haired girl. She was well and truly gone, and Charles left Cairo realising that there were violent mutants in the world.

That was when he first truly formed the idea of the X-men.

* * *

Years later, Charles and his best friend faced Amahl Farouk in worlds parallel to one another. The Shadow king, and the possessed Shadow Saviour, one existing in the astral plane that was his home, the other struggling in the real and conscious world. Magneto floated in front of Saviour, and saw that it wasn't Gary in control of his body. Genosha had taught him what evil looked like, and that was what he saw when he looked at the dark force controlling the boy's body. Without speaking, he released a magnetic wave. Fencing was suddenly forced off of the ground, launching itself towards the Saviour. The possessed drone jumped, shaping its tendrils like wings and dodging the metal projectiles. Magneto threw his marbles forward, blocking the tendril that Saviour swung towards him. The marbles generated a magnetic field at Magneto's command, deflecting Saviour's blow.

"What is going on?" Amahl asked.

In the Astral plane, he brushed his monstrous jaw curiously.

"It is as if, nothing is stopping me," he said.

Charles understood though, somehow, Magneto was using his control of magnetic waves to block psychic probes. At least that was the best Charles's could come up with, he had always known Magnus to have a degree of resistance to telepathy, but this was something different. He knew his friend was out there, because he used his own body's eyes. But when reaching out with his abilities to try and coordinate his friend's efforts, it was as if he was grasping at nothing.

"Let the boy go Farouk," Charles said.

"I am the SHADOW KING!" Farouk yelled.

Dark chains shot out at Xavier, and he blocked them with a psionic shield. He saw his projection crack under the immense power, and realised that Farouk had grown more powerful in the years since they last met. Fortunately, so had Charles. The X insignia glowed on his face and he pushed back with his powers. Charles had met two other telepaths over the years, a mercenary named Nathan Dayspring taught him psionic combat, and a man named Tad Carter taught him about traversing the astral plane. Charles mastered the finer control of his powers by himself. What Farouk had in raw power and terror, Charles made up for better control.

"YOU'RE NOT LIKE YOU USED TO BE XAVIER!" Shadow King roared.

He created portals around him, releasing waves of tendrils to grab Charles. To his shock, shields and swords appeared around Charles, blocking and cutting the tentacles apart. Charles put his hands to his head, blasting Farouk onto a nearby planetoid. When Farouk looked up, he saw Charles falling towards him. Silver armour formed over his body, a type of gladiator helmet covered his face and a sword and shield formed in his hand. He swung the sword, only for Farouk to teleport a short distance away.

"I like this new aggressive you Charles, I didn't know there was some darkness in you," Amahl laughed.

With a click of his fingers, chains came up from the ground and wrapped around Charles. He cut one with his sword, only for another to chain to pull his arm to the side. Amahl walked towards Charles, ripping away the helmet and grinning at him.

"What are you planning to do with the boy?" Charles demanded.

"His mind is such a fickle thing, it has strength one moment and weakness the next. He cannot cope with the sheer weight of the universe's knowledge Charles," Farouk said.

"What have you done to him?"

"Oh Charles, I cannot take credit for this. Young Gary was approached by others, people with their own dark motives, he was so desperate and naive that he actually let himself be fooled into believing they were turning him into a saviour. It isn't just his sanity that is unhinged from reality Charles, but his very being itself, in fact, you should be thanking me," Farouk mused, putting a hand to his chin and chuckling.

"What do you mean?" Charles asked.

"If he ever gets full control of his powers and his body, then god help the world," Farouk grinned.

In the real world, Magneto flew around the campus, picking up metal from the classrooms. Tables and chairs, electronic devices, watched and fencing. Alongside the marbles that floated around him, he turned them all into projectiles that slammed into the Saviour's armour. The Saviour landed on the ground and jumped towards Magneto, knocking his metal shields back. He pulled his fist back, intending to strike the master of magnetism. But Magneto caught the fist and smirked as he pulled the arm aside. The magnetic field around him, enabled him to alter his gravity, and even his strength. Punching the Saviour in the face, Magneto sent him flying into a building.

"You do indeed have incredible power boy, but you've been robbed of all control, allow me to aid you in regaining control," he aimed the palm of his hand at Gary's rising form.

The marbles floated around Saviour, spinning as they orbited him. Clouds of dark energy began to seep out of Saviour's armour, drawn to the marbles.

"That is no simple steel, it is a rare metal, found in a nation most believe to be a third world country. Their king once threatened to kill me when I went to their nation, when I breached their orders and discovered the secret of their nation's power and development," Magneto smirked. "He soon found himself being the one threatened, it's rare for a king of Wakanda to know fear. To the rest of his country it was a simple Earthquake, it was like stretching an arm for me, I left with my prize, five meagre marbles of their remarkable metal, " he explained.

The purple colour of the Saviour's armour began to fade, even the gold underneath it was draining, turning into a dull grey.

"A metal, that has a unique ability to absorb energy," he said. "And redistribute it!"

He squeezed his hand into a fist, and an explosion of light and dark energy consumed the space around Gary. Time stopped in that space, and all matter seemed to break apart and rebuild itself. Magneto crossed his arms together, the marbles returning to him. Gary was lying naked in a small crater, his body shivering from the assault.

"It was Wakanda's very own Dora Milaje that named me, master of magnetism!" Magneto said.

Magneto's attack reverberated through the astral plane, causing Shadow King to waver and back away from Xavier. Taking his opportunity, Charles broke free from his chains, an X halo glowing behind him. He threw his fist forward, punching Farouk in the chest. The punch placed an X shape on his chest, an X that glowed with light. A light that gradually began to consume Farouk.

"Return to your prison Farouk," Charles growled.

"You think this is over Charles? It is not," Amahl cackled.

The light swept over his legs and arms, going up his shoulders.

"There is more than one way for me to return to the conscious world Charles, I will find it, and the boy? He's not done yet, he has opened more prisons than mine!"

"What do you mean?" Charles asked.

"There is more than one plane of existence, the boy's power will draw more than just creature's of the shadow to him, and more than just evils from our universe," Farouk grinned. "I look forward to seeing how you and your X-men face what comes next Charles!"

The light consumed the Shadow King, and Charles soon found himself back in the Black bird. He used his powers to see through the eyes of students on ESU. They were looking up at Magneto, using metal wires to levitate Gary off of the ground. Clearly Magnus had no interest in those empowered by Gary. Xavier saw a flame in the sky, and focused on it. Flying after Magnus was the Iron man. He was swerving in the air, long before Magnus used his powers. Scanning Iron man's mind, Charles felt the man's shock when his armour constricted around him. Then he heard the man's scream as he fell to the floor.

'Damn,' Charles thought.

The X-men had gone out to collect four possible students, and Magnus had beaten them to three of them.

* * *

Emma and Todd climbed out of the van, they were definitely not on the road to Westchester. In fact, they were at a station on the way out of New York.

"Sorry about the deception," Sage said.

The two youths turned to Sage, and before their eyes she began to change. They recoiled in disgust, hearing bones click as 'Sage's limbs changed their length and shape. Her bust and waist size changed, particles of her hair began to grow and her face shaped changed. Even her clothes began to shift into something entirely new. The leather trousers ran down her legs, forming white boots. Her jacket and top split, one forming a white sleeveless dress, the end of it leaving her thighs exposed, and the jacket split into a pair of white gloves. Even the colour of her skin changed, going from pale white to blue. Her eyes turned yellow, and her lengthened hair had turned red.

"Let me formally introduce myself, Raven Darkholme!"

* * *

Sven coughed, struggling to stand through the rubble. He felt blood on the side of his face, trailing from a cut on his forehead. His arm felt limp, and when he tried to move it he felt a stabbing pain run all the way up his shoulder. When he took a step forward, he felt his legs shake, there was a hole in the trouser leg of his left knee, exposing a graze. The left side of his shirt had been torn, and Sven gasped in horror, his arm was clearly broken, and coated in bruising and blood. That was when Sven screamed, a tear falling from his bloodied left eye.

"HELP!" he screamed. "IS THERE ANYONE THERE!" he yelled out.

He stepped out of the hole in the building, just as Aaron witnessed another event of importance. Light energy had formed a crack in the air, it was a place where Gary had once stood. The crack expanded, the colour yellow eventually giving way to a rainbow of colours. A portal formed and Sven and Aaron widened their eyes as figures came out of the portal. At the front was a man in yellow and purple armour, blue gauntlets and boots glowed with white lights, all of them gathering at two buckle light circles on his shoulders. A blue helmet covered his face, a diamond visor showed only the feint outline of eyes, the rest of it was veiled by the yellow light within the helmet. There were horns on the side of the helmet, and a mane of pure light stuck out of the back of it. By his side was a woman, though she had red skin. Her black hair was framed by a white, winged head dress. Silver and white armour covered her chest and shoulders, some kind of mail covered her legs underneath the red skirt she wore, and white boots covered her knees and feet. Like her companion she wore a cloak with a fur collar, though hers was red and his blue. She also held a kite shield with a sword sheathed within it.

They and their companions began to speak, Sven could not understand them, Aaron however had access to the Watcher's knowledge.

 _"So this is Midgard,"_ the woman said.

 _"Remember why the All-father sent us here Sif,"_ the man in the purple armour said.

 _"Of course Balder, I can't say the same for those three fools,"_ she huffed, looking over her shoulder at their other companions.

One's belly bulged underneath his pink shirt. His yellow sleeves showed muscular arms, but they didn't match the size of his belly. He had a face with eyes like an owl, a trio of feathers stretched out of the top of his head, and a ginger beard had covered his mouth.

 _"I'm sure that Midgard has changed a great deal in the centuries, could we perhaps stop off at one of these 'McDonalds' we've heard of?"_ he asked.

 _"Always thinking with your stomach eh Volstagg,"_ his shorter friend beside him said.

He was a cat like man, blonde whiskers forming a type of moustache on his mouth. A coif curled over his forehead, and he wore a green shirt.

 _"Oh but Fandral, many wonders can be formed over the course of centuries, not just of the culinary arts,"_ Volstagg said.

 _"Forget that,"_ their third companion snorted.

He was shorter than both, but more muscular, black fur covered his arms and part of his face. White fur however formed a beard over his mouth, with black horns extending from them. A blue scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck and he was holding a type of mace.

 _"The All-father gave us a task, that dark power nearly broke the Bifrost bridge, we must track it,"_ the warrior snorted again.

 _"Yes Hogun,"_ both Fandral and Volstagg groaned.

 _"Midgard, this was where 'he' went missing,"_ Sir whispered.

 _"He is no longer prince, nor is he a god,"_ Balder looked over towards Sven, tilting his head in mild curiosity.

 _"Oh Midgardian, was it a great battle?"_ Volstagg asked.

Aaron knew that they were speaking a variation of an extinct language on Earth. Though, it was more accurate to say that the Norse language was a variation of their language.

 _"Could he have broken his head?"_

 _"The languages of Earth have changed Volstagg, leave him be,"_ Sif said.

In place of these seemingly alien warriors, for a moment Aaron saw four men and a woman that were human, but wearing an odd mix of spandex and armour. It was clear to the Machine man that he was seeing the most popular variants of these beings in the Multiverse.

"He's just another insignificant mortal," Balder said, in human English, coldly turning away from Sven.

The five other worldly beings jumped away from the school, their great strength enabling them to practically fly off of campus. Sven took a step forward, watching them leave, Balder's words stinging his ears. He hung his head low and sighed, a few shame filled tears leaking from his eyes. Slowly he began to limp away, unaware that Yukimura had disappeared and another was watching him. She had red hair resting on her shoulders and wore a black leather outfit, slits exposing her thighs, shoulders and cleavage. There was fur on her boots and her belt was made up of a chain and numerous silver discs.

"It seems the old gods have returned," she muttered. "Oh well, a problem for another day, right now it's time to feed," she looked down at Sven, licked her lips and laughed.

She stopped, hearing the roar of a bike engine. The demon smirked.

'Well, this is about to get interesting!'

Next Chapter 13: Old gods and old demons

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

I pictured the first meeting of Xavier and the Shadow King like a scene from a movie. McAvoy as Xavier (or whoever the MCU gets in the future) and Rami Malek as Amahl Farouk (he doesn't match the usual build, but that's the point, he's unassuming, and a great actor).

Asgardians: This chapter introduces the Asgardians, I'll explain what they really are in future chapters, but I wanted to make them different from what we've seen before. They won't just be aliens as they were in the MCU, there will be some 'wonder' and mysticism behind them.

Next time the Warriors Three face off against Stryker and his team, a young couple's seemingly tragic news serves as the basis for an Asgardian's return, and Sven is pursued by Satana and her fellow demons, with an unexpected saviour behind them.


End file.
